I was asleep, and pretty soundly, at 3:30 this morning. That’s how I like it. So I wasn’t happy when the phone rang, and loudly. It wasn’t Simon, it was K’s sergeant, asking him to come into the office right away. There were two separate shootings within a mile of one another, both of them less than a mile from my house. We’d heard helicopters overhead earlier in the night, and K listened to his radio to see if anything was going on, but not hearing anything out of the ordinary, he went back to sleep, and so did I. Pretty soundly, did I mention that? Because I’m seriously tired, dude. I couldn’t go back to sleep, worrying about gunslinging desperadoes wandering my neighborhood, so I was awake til nearly 6, and then I had to get up at 6:30. I’m seriously tired, dude. I think I said that already. I want a sandwich for lunch, but I can’t get it together enough to decide what kind. If I go to the deli and tell them to put some stuff between two slices of whatever, I wonder what I’ll end up with. Maybe I’ll try it. Then I can blog about that too.
Neither the Washington Post nor the local news channel’s website had anything about the shootings. I just sent a terse note to the Washington Post suggesting that they look into it. Silver Spring isn’t the most pristine and crime-free town in Maryland, but two gun battles within a mile and an hour of one another? That’s some news, right there. I’m cranky, too. I think I’ll go get my something on whatever sandwich. With a giant Diet Coke. If I’m going to stand on a pool deck wielding a stopwatch for three hours tonight, I need to wake up.
(I tried to add a picture of a sandwich, but Blogger must be seriously tired, dude. Use your imagination.)