Bad Mornings

Sometimes you think that you're having a bad morning, but then you really have a bad morning and you put things into perspective. Anyone who occasionally reads my blog knows that I am a klutz.  I keep reasserting that this is because my brain works too fast and my body can't keep up, but I fear that I am just a klutz. 

This morning, I locked myself out of my house. This is not the first time (although the first time was quite an adventure with Tequila fairies and homeless people... well you get the point). This morning, I just took the wrong keys.  This shouldn't have been a big deal (I have friends strategically placed with keys and a secret lock box hidden somewhere in Dupont... with a special code) but I had an unwelcome addition to my morning walk.  I was headed towards my undisclosed location to retrieve my keys when I disturbed man approached me.

My dog looks like the all-American dog, so random people approaching me isn't a new thing. But I could tell that there was something off with this guy, so I said he couldn't pet Rock.  Rock, in the meantime, was getting ready to go ape-shit on this guy.  I was trying not to cause a scene.  Rock and I quickly started walking away. And this guy followed.  We ditched him and he came up around a corner thru an alley.  Rockne lost it.  Started barking like he was being attacked by 15 squirrels (he hates squirrels).

Unfortunately, Rockne was wearing a barking collar and every time he barked, he was sprayed with citronella. But Rockne, being the most amazing dog in the world, kept it up.  I hesitated for a moment and wasn't sure what to do... take off the barking collar and let Rock really go to town.  Walk away?  Fortunately a very large male friend of mine saw us on the street (he is also a bad ass) and the disturbed man left us.

I went home... dropped Rockne off and then went about my day and walked to the metro. Here is the kicker... I saw the disturbed man having coffee with my stalker. I believe in coincidences, but do not believe that this was one.  I immediately called the cops. Nothing they can really do.

Talk about a frustrating morning.  Makes my other bad days not seems as bad.  On a side note... this shit didn't happen when I was dating a 6'4" Ranger.  People knew he could kill them by just looking at them. Perhaps I should reconsider this whole dating military men thing...