Monday - 070416 - Need for pill box; Sleeping; Dogs from next door; Being sick and being difficult; More Tobey and Clive

One of the first things I figured out Monday morning was that I needed a pill box. Since I have a new regime of pills, I immediately found myself trying to decided if I had or had not already taken a pill. And short of counting what's left in the bottle there's no way to know.

But that's not absolute either. What if I'd missed a previous dose. Or what if the count on the bottle was wrong. The antibiotic, Avelox, listed a count of ten on the bottle, but there were at least fifteen in the bottle.

I think I must have done a great deal of sleeping to the point that I didn't go anywhere. I don't see a receipt for lunch.

Someone finally bought the house next door. put a lot of money into fixing it up; my guess is that the buyer has a crew that works directly for him; and then rented it. Of course, flipping houses has become a huge business, and one that must be profitable.

The new tenants have several trucks, a boat, a hauling trailer, two 10-or-12-year-olds, a loud tubby wife who enjoys cell phone conversations in the middle of the front yard. And three diminutive yapping canines.

Late in the afternoon, I thought I go out and try to pick up some debris. With in about ten minutes, two of the darlings charged into my yard and start barking at me. I immediately turned into the Wicked Witch of the West. I more or less screeched at the tenant, "Oh, no! Let's have something clear. I do not want someone's else's animals on my property. There's a leash law in this neighborhood. I want no misunderstanding, I do NOT want someone else animals on my property."

I don't think I'd across quite as strongly, if I'd not seen them several times on my property, and once as I was going to lunch, I noticed them on my carport.

And I absolutely will not be subject to a situation that when I walk outside, I'm going to have to face someone else's barking canines. I did notice that the man literally cringed and did apologize. Thank god, he didn't say, "Oh, they won't hurt!" If he had, I'd impelled him against the nearest pine tree with my pitchfork.

What on earth possesses dog owners to think that their little fuckers can wander at will. I despise this. The only thing I hate worse is someone who dares to say, "They won't hurt you!"

If I'm sick, I can be very difficult. Surly, cantankerous, curmudgeonly. And I'm very much aware of it. That's why I go into recluse mode. I'm also certain that this attitude is related to the suppressed anger I feel, which is associated with depression, that pushes its way to the surface if I'm ill.

I'm sure, as before, I was able to work in some more tinkering with the pensive guys page for Tobey and Clive.