I'm about 500 words from meeting today's writing goal. My day got off to a bit of a chaotic start, and I'm gonna use that as a slackass slacker excuse. (Thanks for the new bit of verbiage, there, Kimberly! 8)
At 3:15 AM this morning, my dear hubby goes to leave for work and realizes someone has parked their truck across our driveway, blocking it. (Well it's blocking one end of it, as we have a circle drive.) Not only that, but they've practically plowed down our mailbox. Anyway, dh calls the cops and asks what he should do, because the truck is apparently crashed and abandoned. Well, the cops come out to move the truck and guess what... one look at it, and they know exactly who the truck belongs to! *_* Not a good sign, IMHO.
The guy who owns the truck has a nice little relationship (NOT!) with the cops, and they tell hubby they'll have to tow it because it's blocking the mailboxes. Yeah. Oh, and because they plan to search the truck for drugs once its in impound. Loveliness, no?
Hubby didn't want to leave the house because of this, thinking the guy might come back and accuse me/us/him of doing something to his truck... which, erm, we did. We called the cops to come get it. Well, hubby went on to work, and simply told the kids and I to keep the doors locked. No problem!
Well, offspring #1--who apparently has no common sense whatsoever--answered the door around 1pm today to complete strangers--gee, son, are you braindead?! Erg. Anyway there were two guys outside, and they asked to speak to yours truly. Okay...
I went to the door to get offspring #1 away from it, and here is the guy with the huge arrest record standing on my porch. Wanting to know about his truck. I told him my hubby had found the truck blocking the mailboxes at 3AM and that it had been towed, and that beyond that, didn't know anything else about it--lying bitch that I am. The guy looked kinda pissed(and kinda toasted)--after all, he'd walked "from his uncle's house to get it", and he had a foot in a cast. From there he went on to play 20 questions blah, blah, blah...about who picked it up before explaining to me the truck had run out of gas, and so he coasted it into our mailbox. Gee, you think? I guess he'd been too toasted last night to use the FREAKING BREAKS. *Sigh*
The guy and his brother finally left, but I have to admit, I've been kinda paranoid for the rest of the day. Let's just hope these losers are not vindictive, because I swear if anything mysterious should happen to my Jeep in the middle of the night...
Well, let's just be nice and say I'd hate to have to break out some wicked voodoo on someone...[[Blogger is being a pain and not loading my pic that goes here!]]
Last minute thought... The guy said his truck was out of gas, and yet he arrived in my yard to pick it up without a can of gas. Okay. Now I know the guy was just stoned and ran into the mailbox and left the truck.
Ugh, I guess you can all see why I'm not a mystery writer.