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I live in the beautiful, fantastic Raintree neighborhood. It's a little pricey for a dumb DJ, so I have the kind of grubby rent house on the block. I love the place deeply, but with affordable rent comes...issues.

It seems that landlords, in general, would rather take a hammer to the teeth than replace a whole fence, so my fence is a quilt of past cheap repair jobs. Drinking beers on the back porch, I've counted at least five different types of pickets. Places in the fence are quite low and my lovely neighbor Mike always says "hi" to me when he drops off the trash in the dumpster.

In other words, I should have known better.

Today I spent a lovely couple hours at Cardinals Sports Center, catching up with my amazing friends like you. It was quite hot. I was damp all over when I got home, so I immediately peeled off my shirt and bra.

I had a couple of Brewery LBK hard lemonades last night (highly recommend) but had left them on my coffee table. Instinctually, I grabbed them to throw in my large outdoor trash can.

There were about 8-10 roofers on top of the house across from the alley. Of course, I didn't notice until I was outside, but I think they may have noticed me.

Is this a metaphor for something? Sadly, it's just a typical afternoon for me. When I finally buy a house, the first investment I make will be a nice, tall privacy fence. Mike can just come over whenever he likes, but he can leave the trash bag in the alley.