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January 25, 2012 BLOODY FREAKIN' HELL! So I moved. Great- right? No more nights awakened by my meth-head, wanna-be gangster, white-trash neighbors. No more S.W.A.T. throwing stun grenades through bedroom windows, and battering open doors. No more nights spent wearing earplugs and running two fans.WRONG! At first, my new place was great. The attic of a big house re-modeled into a one bedroom. The kitchen is brand new, and so is the bathroom. I have already lived here for a month with no neighbors in the main floor of the house. It was beatific. Then the neighbors show up; two privileged little shit heads from California. The first time I complained they showed up at 10:00 p.m. made a crap ton of noise until I stormed down the stairs and told them to shut up, and they had not even taken occupancy! They were just idly moving shit around until midnight. The second time- well, sure they were finally moved in- but they come rolling in at midnight (again, making a crap ton of noise), and kept me up until 1:00 a.m. So here I am. Stalwart writer, simply wanting to write, and mind my own business. But instead, I find myself, once again, in the unenviable position of having to explain to dubiously mature adults that they are acting like selfish, inconsiderate, and down-right rude, insufferable brats. Truly, all I wish to do is pay rent, be the private, considerate person I am, and come home to serene, livable apartment. However, it appears as if that might not exist, at least within the city limits of Portland proper. If I were a religious man, I would pray and ask my god what I did wrong. As it stands, I wish my Dad was here to talk to. He always had a different outlook than anyone else, and he could always see the bright side to any dark cloud. [Add Comment] 0 Comments |
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