I hate random frantic work phone calls that eat up two hours of my night.

I hate being in the right spot... twice... and having revelations being made on the second trip.

Seriously? Really? Part A: You have a freaking daughter. Don't label other women your daughter... I have some sort of moral code that requires me to balk at this comment and say "I know so and so's real daughter... well real not including that other family in the south east... you are not her.". It seems to cheapen the title.

Part B:... revelations that certain folk are drinking at my bar.. as day drinkers.. no one notifies me... and the reason said individual is is drinking at *my* bar is because they are hiding out from their usual haunt because the hubby was sleezing/sleeping with the liquor rep of the original joint... that could explain only two phone calls since before Thanksgiving of 2009. Grr.... FML.