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“what’s going on?”
“oh, there was a drunk resident causing trouble this morning. so i called the cops and they called the ambulance.”
“ahh, yeah she was knocking at my door at 5 o’clock this morning,” i said.
“she was knocking on a lot of doors,” he said, “i got about seven calls complaining about her. i found her laying in front of my door screaming for her monkey.”

turns out this woman has been a problem the past two nights. apparently i missed her running the front lawn the night before around 2 a.m. yelling for help.

also, it seems that the silvery forehead and black eyes are not makeup. she claims someone hit her with a 2×4. mr. furley claims her boyfriend beat the shit out of her. regardless, it makes me terribly sad.

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it seems sarg down the hall died. i felt so bad for mr. furley, he’s bringing around a card for everyone in the building to sign.

this was just so terribly sad. mr. furley standing there in the hallway, stained white t-shirt, green pants, bright orange baseball cap trying not to cry.

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mr. furley asked me if i got a new car today. he pounced on me before i could even open the door. in fact, he didn’t give me a chance to open the door, he opened it for me. i told him i was using my sister’s car. it was a loaner. he was amazed and insisted she lived in faribault. she doesn’t. mr. furley is weird, but i like him. he said a jeep cherokee will be a good vehicle for me. i love him for that. everyone is trying to talk me out of it. i think everyone would try to talk me out of any car i had my heart set on. why do people do that? that just stinks.

also, i am sick of people asking me if i have gone car shopping yet. no! i need a month to save up a decent down payment. why don’t people ever listen to me?

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“it locks!” that’s his argument on why the storage locker should not be neglected. he didn’t want me to have to keep all my stuff (i.e. and i quote: “you don’t have to keep all your soap around if you don’t want to”) in the apartment. anyway. . . he’s knocking at the door at 11 a.m. of course i lay in bed for awhile and debate getting up and getting dressed and seeing who it is. the main motivating factor is that it could be a UPS man delivering early presents.

nope, it was just mr. furley giving me the key to the storage locker. rats! i think it’s time for my nap.

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