Last night was nice and cool, so I decided to sleep with the windows open. Somewhere around midnight (waaay past my bedtime) I was roused from my slumber by a man across the street yelling and shouting. I went to the window to check it out. A resident of the low-rise on the corner was speaking to him from his balcony, and the man was shouting up to him from the parking lot. Since he seemed to be handling it, I went back to bed.
At least 20 minutes later, the man was still shouting and it seemed my neighbour had given up and was no longer trying to deal with him. He seemed very distressed, and as I moved back to the window, I could better over hear what he was saying - making declarations of love, crying out to God, cursing and threatening seemed to be the dominant themes. At this point I decided he was more than likely psychotic, or at least in some kind of crisis, and that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until I had done something.
Deciding it was not exactly a good plan to dash outside in my pj's and try to counsel this stranger, I got on the computer to look up a local mental health crisis number (I live outside my work area, so I am not as familiar with resources in my own neighbourhood). By the time I got it and went back to the window to try to see him better, he was gone. I hoped he was safe.
There seemed nothing better to do than go back to bed and try to sleep. Unfortunately, my furry nocturnal neighbours decided we hadn't had enough excitement in the neighbourhood for one night, and decided to start fighting over my organics recyling bin. At least, I think that's what they were doing. Have you ever heard racoons fight? It sounds like a cross between a dog fight, cats in heat and an 18-wheeler running over somebody's toes.
Needless to say, I'm feeling less than lively this Monday morning. How is the start of
your week going?
