Tuesday, January 31, 2006

After-Action Report

One of two things happened last night. Either the phone cutoff worked even better than we had hoped, disrupting enemy communications and ultimately scuttling their plans, or else the enemy never really had a plan, we're paranoid and we're jumping at shadows. I choose to believe the former. You may believe whatever you like...it's a free country.

I sat in the living room ready to pounce. I felt like a little kid waiting up for Santa. Every sound was transmogrified in my mind to a step in the hall. I was rehearsing my grounding speech to myself, coming up with witty little ways to rub in that we would have her under our thumb for two more weeks. I was having fun. And then the little shit doesn't even have the decency and integrity to come through for me. Of all the nerve. I finally went to bed at about 2, having used up my entire allotment of enthusiam for the enterprise.

Anyway, security measures will be tightening up around here, that's for sure. Because even though nothing ended up happening last night, that's not the only night I'll be setting traps and sitting up waiting for my chance to grandstand.

Keystroke recorder is on the computer and functional, soon to be joined by its friend Mr. Family Friendly Content Filter. Motion-activated cameras are under investigation and will likely be purchased when funds allow. Two would be nice, three would be better. Preferably aimed at the outsides of all the entrances to the house to record the time and manner of all nocturnal departures and arrivals.

I would have made a great third-world marxist dictator.

Anyway, the girl is safe for now. I have supreme confidence in my prospects to make a bust sooner or later. All in good time, my dear.

UPDATE: I am exhibiting worrisome behaviors today because of this situation. It will start by a little chuckling to myself, then progress to out-loud chortling. Once or twice today, and again just now, it went on to out-loud laughing to (and at) myself, and I finally had to share this with you when, not 5 minutes ago, I thought of "Josie" walking Willy (our Chow-mix mutt) and cackled out loud "I'll get you, my little pretty, and your little dog, too!"

I know my coworkers sometimes worry about me. I wish I could explain to them that it's simply a case of an overactive imagination and I'll really be okay, but when I open my mouth something else completely ridiculous comes flying out. There are people like me who make a very good living writing and saying ridiculous things. I need to figure out how to harness this. It could be a gold mine.


At 6:41 AM , Blogger Beth said...

Hang in there Dan. Twapping wabbits and delinkwents takes patience.


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