Erika and the Terrible, Awful, No Good Very Bad Weekend

This weekend felt like the flu to me. It came on very strong and unpleasant and left quietly and now in the aftermath I’m shaky but glad it’s gone. Friday evening heralded some Very Bad News which has since resolved (hence freeing me from the paper bag I’ve been breathing into all weekend) and Sunday afternoon brought the opportunity to bid farewell to a very good family friend. Even though I’m currently staring down the longest workweek I’ve seen in about three weeks (thanks to our vacation, Christmas, and New Year’s Day) I’m glad that particular weekend is behind us.

When I woke up this morning, however, let’s just say I was not quite so glad for the workweek. Get up I did, however, and before I knew it I was dressed and ready and walking with the puppy. We did our usual loop this morning but it felt different from the beginning. At first we got stuck behind the first person I’ve ever seen out and about walking a dog at 6:30am. This guy was meandering, meandering I say!, through the rain and wind like he was in Switzerland singing about the hills. It was rather annoying so Doc and I quickly passed him and continued our walk in proper rain-loathing fashion.

As we turned down a side street to complete our usual loop we encountered a person who gave me the chills. We heard loud vibrating from a car’s speakers turned up too loud about a block before we saw the actual car. By the time we were walking up to the car it was clear the listener inside was either 90 years old or a teenager because the bass was deafening. As we actually passed the car, however, the music stopped and the guy behind the wheel just stared straight ahead with both hands on the wheel.

Imagine this with me, won’t you? Walking in the rain, it’s really cold. Hear loud music. Keep walking and see car on side of street, lights on, warming up or something. While actually walking next to car, music stops and suddenly the morning is very lonesome indeed. Look through window casually while passing and see skinny white kid in a white t-shirt (no coat in 30-something degree weather!) staring straight ahead in the sudden silence. After passing the car, the music starts again, loud as ever. Walk faster and hope kid doesn’t have firearms.

I was a little spooked, I must admit. I may not walk down that particular street again in the dark mornings if I can help it. I know Doc looks a lot more fierce than he used to but he’s still a 6-month old pile of Labrador kisses waiting to happen. If you want a ball fetched he’s your puppy. Protection from crazy people? Probably not. Sure, he’ll kiss them on the face and eat their food (and possibly their clothes too) but save me from them? No thanks.

The very thought of it bores him to tears.

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