Under siege from the creatures from the creek

The stomach cramps subsided over the course of the day, but I remained somewhat tentative in the food department, essentially eating nothing and drinking little else than black coffee and water. Mrs. Ottawacker had gone into the office early for a day’s meeting about her database migration, during which the same things would probably be repeated ad nauseam and nothing would progress. She is getting somewhat tetchy with work, as the new database is supposed to go live this week and none of the changes she has been asking for have been done. Too many cooks… not enough broth.
 
My mood was not improved by the discovery that, during the night, our house had been under vicious and sustained attack from a gang of thugs. Somehow, we had all slept through it. An entrance, of sorts, had been attempted via the fence to our back deck. The screen, which protects us from mosquitoes in the summer but has little other use, had been ripped off, and the window was showing clear signs of being tampered with. Mrs. Ottawacker thinks it was squirrels – but I know better. Only a racoon would be smart enough to rip the screen before trying to get in: squirrels just leap at it and hope for the best. Part of the issue is that we put food on the back deck as kind of an extension of our fridge during winter. That might have to change.
 
A reasonably productive morning turned into an afternoon during which I felt sorry for myself. By the time Ottawacker Jr. came home from school, Mrs. Ottawacker had also returned. All of this helped. Did a few more errands, tried to come to terms with the fact that the postal strike is going to cause issues in getting gifts delivered. I’m either going to have to use FedEx or leave the house…
 
Evening was dedicated to taking Ottawacker Jr. and his friend Lucas to soccer practice, going to Costco in Gloucester, and timing everything so we could pick them up again at 8.30. We made it for 8.15, at which time I had developed a raging thirst. The only thing we had in the car was a case of Corona Zero, which we had just bought at Costco. So, while Mrs. Ottawacker and I sat in the car park of Franco-Cité high school waiting for the midgets to emerge, I sneaked out to the trunk of the car, opened the case of beer, and then sat in the car drinking a bottle as quickly as possible. We imagined how I could possibly explain sitting in a car holding a bottle of Corona to (a) the boys, should they emerge before I had had time to finish and (b) a passing policeman or security guard who would hardly believe that it was an act of desperation. Or that it was Corona Zero, for that matter. In these times, you not only have to be good, you have to be seen to be good… and that might just fail the smell test.
 
Home to a piece of toast and a reasonably early night.