The Plumber finally shows up the day after he was supposed to. My husband called and chewed ass. The lady who answered said she offered "your wife" another technician. BULLSHIT! Never offered. I would have taken it, Dummy. Who wants to waste 48 hours waiting for people if you can get it all done in ONE DAY? Idiots.

When the Plumber DID finally show up, he hit on me. I think. I say, "I think" - because it was a strange blubbering bunch of words, followed by, "If you catch the underlying tone". Only thing I caught was the door handle on my way out of the room.

We have a college buddy of my husband's here for the week. He overhead it, too, and said, "Yah, I think that's what happened". Ack. Fix the fucking leak already.

Speaking of CollegeBuddy, he got completely olbiterated last night and didn't finish making dinner. I had to send him to bed because he was yelling, "FUCK YOU FUCKING FUCKERS!" to the Pokemon cartoon with my son sitting there. We cuss, sure. But we are curbing the F WORD.

And on a very serious note:

The day kind of ended up really sucking with the news of another shooting at a high school in Colorado. I remember Columbine. I think it was the first thing all of us thought when we saw the SWAT team poised and ready to bust into the school on live TV yesterday. Columbine was horrible. I was working at a hospital in town where the victims were taken. I remember the rush of activity, the pagers going off for on-call doc's, and the news out front waiting for any word.

But morever, you wondered how those parents must have felt. And now to have a child, and naturally find yourself thinking, "OH MY GOD. WHAT IF THAT WAS MY BABY??" ....

I will not lie. My husband and I sat on the couch, cried together, and promised as best we could we'd keep our baby safe as safe as possible.

Our hearts and prayers go out to the family of Emily Keyes, and I hope you will in turn remember them, as well.