I am not a klutz, really!

Upon rereading last night�s entry with a cooler eye than when I posted it, I realized that it looks bad, boys and girls. I have been composing that letter in my mind for days now, but because I am such a nice person I have said nothing to this particular friend that would indicate how I truly feel. Does that make me a wuss? or stupid? or both? I am not the only one hurting. The friend close to both of us is hurting as much or more, since they have known each other longer. The situation is not good, and methinks it is time to be vocal about it, although the love of my life has told me not to do anything until this is all over and, hopefully, I can be more open in my diary. Sigh�

In other points on the space/time continuum, I caused a stir of merriment among Little Princess� friends last night when I went to pick her up. I walked right into the screen door, hitting myself on my forehead (it hurt!) in front of her and Chris. A roomful of teenaged males had to come out and laugh at me, so I pulled a line of Chief Wiggam�s from The Simpsons and said, �Move along, there�s nothing to see here.�

Buddy Boy finally got to go for a long-deserved haircut at Mr. Beattie�s Barber Shop. It was full of townies waiting patiently to have their spring shearings, so I left him there and went to do my ATM jobs. But there was still nowhere for a mom to sit when I came back, so instead I headed over to B1ack Cat and jawed with Janice for a while.

Back at the barber shop we started talking about the referendum, and Terry explained more about the fire department. They are unionized now, and are hence part-time employees. This is no longer a �volunteer� force. The City of Sh�brooke just gave them a million-dollar fire truck and even if we demerge, services like fire, police and garbage pickup will still be administered by the larger municipality. Sewage and water, though, will go back to the town, and the town will have to buy back those services, which will show up in our taxes. Our snow removal equipment was taken away from us, and we would have to either buy them back, or get new ones. L�ville had a surplus when we were taken over, and of course it will not be returned, and taxes will go up. But, as Mr. Beattie says, they will go up anyway. So, what does one choose? I am just so angry at our former provincial government for ramming this forced merger down our collective throat in the first place. Bastards.

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