Indiana Joanna (khakipants) wrote,
Indiana Joanna
khakipants

  • Mood:

Bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land.

I want to say thank you to everyone who sent me good wishes or sympathy yesterday. I know that as crimes go, having a car window smashed is rather minor. Nothing was even taken from inside the car, as far as I have been able to determine. But it was such a violent thing that it's really quite scary. The car was parked directly in front of my house, in the (apparently illusory) safe realm of suburban Howard County, and we didn't notice anything while it was happening. The back windshield is completely gone, shattered all throughout the inside of the car. And the rock that I removed from underneath the front passenger seat today is huge and seriously heavy. The only way that it could have done the damage that was done and have landed where it did was if someone stood directly behind my car and threw the thing with all of his strength.

(That last was a nasty sentence, but I'm more interested in bed right now than in grammar.)

So I stayed home from work today, as someone from the auto glass place was scheduled to come remove the broken glass and replace the windshield sometime between 8:00am and 5:00pm. So I got up and dressed at 7:30 . . . and sat and watched TV and sat and did laundry and sat and watched some more TV and sat and waited and waited. And around 3:30 I got a call from the glass place, with the general gist being that they didn't yet have the glass to fit my car, and could they reschedule for tomorrow morning. So I had to call my boss to tell her that I wouldn't be in again. Sigh. So that was the stupid part of my day.

The good part of my day came later, when Erica and Rohini and Sarah and NoJournalDave and I went out to dinner at Rocky Run, and then to Borders. I ate a patty melt, which was by far the least healthy of the meals in our booth. We drew on the table- we had a flower and a sea-creature-that-was-not-a-flower, three sheep, two cottages, a hobbit, some pumpkins, barbed wire, an IBC root beer bottle, all of our names written in the greek alphabet and the cyrillic alphabet, and a seriously frightening man with a homocidal maniac grin and a combover. Later, four fifths of our party indulged in book-buying activities. Only Erica's willpower proved strong enough.

And now comes the part of the day in which I go to sleep. Good night.
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