*Autumn Murphy - *the name has been changed so I can talk major shit now or in the future

It's true that a yellow room is like prozac without the pesky sexual side effects. Lars and I have been in such good moods we've actually done things with our post-work, evening lives. We started hanging pictures and making some plans for painting the rest of the house. Then we lazed about watching Sopranos until the power went out because some ijiot drove his car straight into a power line.
This morning I woke up to a frozen, icy walk to the bus....and now my thighs are totally sore from doing the Richard Clifford walk. (*Richard Clifford is this guy Tawnya and I knew from Ricks who walked in short, slightly bouncy, Japanese animation steps whenever it was icy. We made fun of him, but later realized such ridiculous hoofing can prevent you from some major ass busting).
So, yeah...and while I'm on the subject of folks that Tawnya and I knew at Ricks 13 years ago, did I mention that my new neighbor (the guy and his neglected dogs with pretentious names moved out) is my arch nemesis from my formative college years? We were roomies. She was a major shit talker and stuff stealer. It didn't end well. Now we're neighbors. Charming.
The dogs were barking at her kid in the back yard, so I came out to scold them and sneak a peak at the folks moving in. We both, started doing the overly smiley, "heeeey" when suddenly, recognition hit and both of our faces fell. "Tracy?.... so, you own this house?" She said, pointing at my vinyl siding. "Yeah. So, uh...you're moving in here?" I said, hoping that she was just helping out a pal. "Uh huh. Yeah, this is my son, *****." Then she turned her back and continued to unload her incredibly noisy diesel truck. I took the dogs inside and hyperventilated to Tawnya, who also couldn't believe this shit.
That was on Friday...we haven't seen each other since. If we can keep it that way, things should be swell.