Irony of ironies...

[deathpixie]

Someone broke into the court last weekend, through the simple yet effective means of tossing a fencepost through one of the back windows. Unfortunately, it was the window closest to my desk, so I was unable to use it for the bulk of the day due to the shards of glass everywhere - the cleaner finally turned up at 3 to clean it up. Add to that the fingerprint powder left by the police, and the contents of everyone's drawers being dumped on the floor, and we had a lovely start to the day.

Weird sidenote for Melancamp - in an effort to knock out our non-existent alarm, the burglars poured a bottle of Coke on the phone switchboard. Which resulted in much stickiness but not much else. Goes to show the intelligence of the average Wodonga burglar. They got away with about $20 worth of change from the Coke machine, but missed the machine itself, which has a couple of hundred in it. The money from Friday's fines etc was safely locked in the strong room, although they did try several spare keys on it.

No little "presents" left in the magistrate's chambers or in the courtroom, at least. My guess is they didn't want to turn on the lights, and the court is extremely dark at night - hell, it's dark during the day.

My mind's eye is full of broken glass. I think I'm going to have to take BRM's advice and see if I can write it out of my head.

***

The housemate was busy today - he's put the doors on the shed, and fixed the gate so I can open it without struggle. And he got out the soaker hose for the veggie patch, which means much more efficient watering. It's good, because he's basically spent the last two weeks sitting around doing not very much at all, except moping. He's still mopey - every conversation tends to steer around to how crap he's feeling - but I'm finding it difficult to be sympathetic. I just don't have it in me to coddle him and say "there there". I feel like shaking him and telling him to snap out of it and get a life, for god's sake. Which would be gratifying for me, but ultimately not a good idea. Shaking depressives, no matter how much you want to, tends to have the opposite effect, and I'd hate to find him in the gas oven one morning.

I'm just tired of being the safety net, the cushion. I just don't have the energy to deal with it any more. But at least he's still making attempts to get work. And he will be moving out, I've made that clear. We both need to get our own lives back, no matter how much he regrets things now.

Comments

Oh, goodness.

[pollymel.livejournal.com]

Coke, devourer of worlds...

*ahem* Okay, that gets a Mel Seal Of Weirdness.

And, dude *hugs*

Talk to you later. (If you're onliney still, dude, come into chat, Lise is there....)

[hex-16.livejournal.com]

...in an effort to knock out our non-existent alarm, the burglars poured a bottle of Coke on the phone switchboard. Which resulted in much stickiness but not much else.

Bwahahahahahahahaha!
That is all. :)

--Hex, returning you to your regularly scheduled nuttiness.