Oh, joy.

This past week has been an exercise in frustration.

On Thursday, I heard noises in the garage at around 2 AM. Dashing out in my bathrobe (which has a Mighty Mighty Fred pattern on it - sue me, my wife bought it for me for Christmas, and it's cold!), I saw a couple of hooligans breaking into the garage. I ran outside and threatened them with a bat and they dashed off - holding something.

Horrified, I saw a hole smashed into the garage door, so I popped back inside and dialed the police. They seemed very eager to come help out - I was very impressed with their diligence. In fact, a squad car showed up only ten minutes later, and four police officers piled out. One of them came up to me, mumbling about the rash of thefts in the area, done by the Sparrow and her gang. I hadn't heard of the Sparrow hitting our part of town, but I was agreeing with him when I heard laughter from inside the garage.

Upon entering, I saw two of the officers standing on the metal that was once my car and the other taking pictures. They were posing in the standard MM Fred poses. It was nauseating, and I admit that I had an "old man" syndrome as I roared for them to get out of my garage. They had the decency to look a little ashamed, and left, telling me that the pictures were for evidence.

Grrr.

I've had a lot of trouble catching the bus to the office, but my daughter Susan said I could use her bike to travel. It's pink, and it's embarrassing, but I just don't care anymore.

And Bob got promoted at his job, he told us - so not everything is bad news. He's now captain of a wing at Jackamony Prison. He is in charge of some of the worst criminals this country has ever seen - hopefully he'll stop the rash of escapes that has happened over the past several years.

Well, forget the car, forget the hoodlums, and forget the stupid police - tomorrow should be a better day. I need to get some sleep now.