I hate our police.

Half an hour ago, just after 11 pm, someone rang on the door. I had Marta on me, so I decided not to get up, but they persisted, so I went and asked who that was.

They said they were from police and asked for the landlady, calling her by her full name. I didn't open the door, told them she wasn't here. They asked who I was. When I told them I'd call her on her cell, they cursed and left, said they needed to speak to her personally.

I called her anyway, and she said she had no idea why they were looking for her.

I know for sure they were cops: the car they left in was marked as a police car. I couldn't see the license plate number, though.

It feels pretty lousy to be cursed by cops in the middle of the night in somebody else's apartment on the ground floor next to a forest and not far from a cemetery, with a 6-month-old asleep in the bedroom.

I won't be able to fall asleep now, I'm afraid.