Sunday = Friday?

When I got home on Friday, somebody had been in my apartment. I can tell when that happens because I lock the deadbolt but not the knob. If the knob is locked, somebody else has been in the apartment. Nobody showed up on Sunday. Therefore, the showing that was supposed to have been on Sunday was probably on Friday. Is it Saturday yet?

The other thrill I could do without on Friday was the shooting I heard on the way home. I knew what I was hearing, but I was hoping it wasn't that. I haven't seen anything in the news about it, and I didn't see it myself because I was halfway up Gardner St. and whatever went on was on the corner of Malcolm X and Columbus, where I had been five minutes before.

I got a fair bit done on Saturday, to the point that it was 11:00 on Saturday night and I had just taken my contacts out when I remembered skreeky's party. Oops. Mostly I bought hardware on Saturday: tension rods for door curtains, poles and casters for Metro shelves, and stuff like that. Then I waited around for a bus for 45 minutes, and came home and packed some more stuff. This must have been a bus-free weekend as well as a tax-free weekend, because on Sunday I also waited 45 minutes for a bus.

Yesterday was supposed to have been cleaning day, but I only got as far as cleaning the bathroom. Mostly because I can't find the floors anywhere else just now, and I didn't want to deal with cleaning the oven. Cleaning the bathroom involves inhaling enough chemicals; I didn't want to cope with oven cleaner on top of that. However, the bathroom (except the floor) is clean.

I'm going to be very unhappy if Aleve doesn't work for me any more. The stuff I took at 7:30 this morning has worn off already.