Oh. My.

Mondays are generally accepted to be pretty sucky, but this one takes the cake. After an incredibly stressful morning at work, an emotionally tolling visit to my grandmother's and a moral dilemma about another issue, I decided to write over at the house where I'm house-sitting. Finally, I thought. Some peace and quiet.

Wrong.

Turns out, the owners of this house gave an extra key to the old lady who lives across the street - in case of an emergency, I imagine, or in case I should call her and ask for her help. I actually had some encounters with her yesterday... not personally, though. No no. She came over at around 10 in the morning, while I was away at church - after I had come by at 7 AM to let the dog, who is finicky and sleeps inside, out. She found the dog in the yard and assumed that I had left him out all night, and left me an angry little note telling me that that was not the way it was done. I couldn't remember which house was hers, so I couldn't go over and talk with her - so I left her a note on the counter, explaining the situation. I assumed that if she had come in once, she'd probably do it again later in the week sometime. Again, wrong.

That brings us to today. I left this morning at around 7, worked, and did all the above mentioned things. I came over here at about 4, and when I stepped into the house, I found another note from dear old neighbor lady. This time it was a full page, letting me know what I had been doing wrong and asking me if I had done this and that or had made sure of this, and if I knew about that. "Let me know your schedule so I don't have to keep coming over and checking on things." That was the last straw. First of all, I am a perfectly competent ADULT. I do not need old women coming by and "checking on things". Secondly, why was I hired to be here if a key was given to the psychotic, nosy old neighbor? These things don't make sense to me. I paced around for a minute, trying to think of how best to handle the situation. I didn't know which house was hers so I couldn't go over and give her a piece of my mind - probably better, anyway. Then I noticed that she had left her number. I got my phone.

Grouch: Hello?
Me: Hi! This is Laura, I'm house-sitting across the street.
Grouch: Oh? Yes...
Me: Well... I just wanted to let you know my schedule so that you don't have to keep coming over. (I decided to go with the friendly approach, so as to disarm the beast.)
Grouch: (Not disarmed; instead, mildly passive-aggressive.) Oh. Yes. That WOULD be good.
Me: (Gives her the details of when I'm here, when I've BEEN here, and all the times I have come by to check on the pets when I've NOT been here.)
Grouch: Are you there now?
Me: I am.
Grouch: Where is your car?
Me: It's a little red honda. Across the street - I had to park down a ways, actually.
Grouch: I don't see it.
Me: Well - it's there...
Grouch: (Angrily patronizing) Now Laura, be upfront with me. I am willing to work with you, but you need to be honest. You're not across the street, are you?
Me: I - what? Alright. I'm stepping outside right now. Do you see me?
Grouch: Let me go look... I'm way out back.

[Ok, hell's bells, woman. You accused me of lying, of not being here, you claimed that my car did not exist, and you weren't even LOOKING OUT THE FREAKING WINDOW?!]

At this point the woman opened her door, and said, "Oh, hello." We both had doors that we didn't want to leave open behind us, so we stood on our front porches, talking to each other on the telephone from across the street. I assured her that I really was doing my job and following their instructions. I kept from telling her that she could go do something very unpleasant. I was polite. I was affable, yet firm.

Grouch: I just want to make sure that the pets are taken care of.
Me: I want that, too.
Grouch: Well, goodbye.
Me: Goodbye.

Seriously. Is this woman for real? I can NOT deal with another embodiment of the woman I work for. One is stressful enough. I am not about to put up with two. If this neighbor comes over again.... well.... arg. Let's just hope she doesn't... for both our sakes.