My neighbor across the gravel just pulled into his driveway. He came in fast, bass thumping, power sliding through the curve. It’s not like he sat out there bumping his stereo for a half-hour or anything, but still, it’s 11:30 on a Sunday night in a residential neighborhood, and both the CFO and Jr. are asleep. Irritating. [Pay no attention to the time stamp on these posts. Right now I think they are only an hour fast, but the discrepancy seems to change at random]

Of course I peek out my kitchen window as he pulls in. The dude was not exceptionally steady on his feet as he got out of his car and walked to the door, and it took him about 3 minutes to get his own front door open. I know that at certain times those keys can be tough — The CEO thinks someone might have been out celebrating his day off tomorrow . . .

The clincher is that the guy left his car door open when he went inside. The dome light is still on but growing dimmer as I write this. I sure hope it doesn’t rain tonight. A nicer man would go over there and shut the door, but well, here we are. Should have turned down the radio pal.

Plus, if I were to go over there I’d wake up the CFO, since I’d first need to procure some pants or other suitable covering for my lower half, or at least my middle third. The CFO needs her sleep, and I absolutely positively cannot go outside again without such a garment, even in the dead of night to do a good deed. No way I’m going down that road again, thank you very much Mr. Overzealous District Attorney. Sorry neighbor; not gonna happen.