Ding Dong, the deadbeat's gone!!!

I could not be more pleased with myself at the moment.

With the negotiating skills of The Donald (hold out a big carrot while swinging a very large stick) I finally am free of this crazy alcoholic deadbeat that has been infesting my home, torturing me and scaring off my houseguests for far too long. And now I finally have a guest room again and can have friends visit without the drunk guy lurching naked around the apartment in the middle of the night.

I can have a study, or a den, or a separate office, or a wine cellar, or a gun room ..... It doesn't matter because it's all mine again!!
I can walk naked again around my entire house if I want to. In fact I might just do that for a week or so, just because I can.
I can change my front door locks without being arrested!


Well, Back to bed for me because I'm sick with some nasty bronchial infection which is making breathing very hard and is interfering with my surfing plans. And speaking of that, Someone please remind me to NOT tell my dad next time I'm not feeling well. I happened to mention this fact to him today and next thing you know, the lunatic (who is 83 years old and is going in for surgery next week) shows up on my doorstep (on the top floor of a 5 story walk-up) with about $50 worth of Second Avenue Deli Matzo ball soup, bulk quantities of corned beef, and an egg cream. Additionally, my dad pack an overnight bag for himself ( true, it consisted mostly of all his medications and his phone book and not a stitch of clothing) deciding that he was going to stay for a few days and be my nurse. A delicate situation it was for me. How do I tell this man who dropped everything, spent more on Jewish medicinal food for me tonight than he spends on himself in two weeks, traveled in the wretched heat, and planned to relieve me of walking my dog three times a day (remember, 5th floor walk-up), that I just want to be left alone (see paragraph 2 above) right now.

Ya gotta love the man for his intentions - Still, I sent him home with the promise that I would go to the hospital tomorrow if I stopped breathing during the night.

Excuse me, I hear more soup calling ...