The Bloody Doors Off

The upstairs neighbors are dicks. There’s no polite way of saying it. The landlords inherited them when they bought the house. I’ve been told that their lease isn’t being removed and will be about by the end of November. Dear fucking christ, I hop so.

The previous landlord allowed them a washer/dryer instead of an oven. Given the number of people who live there on a given week (it’s laughably become a bit of a flop house; you never see the same 3-5 people), the machine goes constantly. It sucks up the water pressure, and is a bit noisy. But I can live with that.

What I can’t live with is the near constant back and forth, banging heels on the floors. It’s like they’ve never heard of simply walking. That they have to announce their presence with every footfall.  And the random banging, of things being dropped onto the ground. Usually though, it stops around 11pm, only to start up again at 4am when one of them wakes up to get ready to work at McDonald’s. Right on top of my head.

Since I’ve been out of hospital, I’ve become more sensitive to the noise. And last night was too much for me. It kept going on, right past 1am. I’m trying to modify my sleep schedule, go to bed by midnight and wake up by 9am. And they just. Kept. Banging.

I lost my shit. I bellowed with such force from my bed. I was seconds from getting dressed and pounding on their door. They heard me. They apologized. And two minutes later, it started up again.

I dunno if I can make it to the end of the month. Not like this.