Tuesday, March 06, 2007

I Have 27 Housemates... Technically I suppose it's closer to 1000, but I'm only thinking of the ones I can actually hear.

I tried to block the voices - babbling, cackling; intruding and interrupting. I was having a great time playing with my nieces and talking with my family about lawnmowers and Andrew's new helicopter with which we could see the badly shingled roof of mum+dad's as-yet-unrenovated house and the broken pipe (identical to the one in my bathroom) which was causing damage and holding up renovations because no one could walk on that part of the roof. Dad had called in friends from the gym, the same guys from the circus in Big Fish, who'd come in with a frontend loader to rip out the rotting corner.
The Voices couldn't be the clown guys; it was too loud and annoying.
My subconscious was trying to decide where the offensive sound was coming from when consciousness took over with reality, slowly but surely, my family fading...
Stupid Brain. I couldn't really blame it, though. Once it had realised that my suspected-to-be-a-prostitute neighbor was having a party at some witching-hour hour of the night it had to insist I was not in Adelaide.
I lay in the semi-darkness of the shoebox I have made... and call, with genuine affection... home. The gaggle came from the apartment on the other side of the wall as my bed-head...nope, from the apartment on the other side...maybe outside...no, definitely the other side. TV? Real? T.V. Some talk show with a large female panel. Too awfully annoying to be real.
I got out of bed and did the only polite thing. I thumped on the wall. The sound lowered. Good - T.V. Volume control.
Stumbled back to bed and peered at the clock - 2:18. Urg. Pulled covers over head.

Maybe I was still dreaming.... Sleepy Tired Hopeful part of brain tries to put Currently Irritated Insistent Consciousness in a box.... ... ... ... ... ...? Urg!... It's real! *yawnsobsweartiredly*
Get out of bed again. Thump harder more times than before.

Back to bed *yawn*

Consciousness starts writing post, jamming the lid of his box open. Reluctantly give in and turn on light *yawn* write post on paper. Think about thumping once more to remind the 30-going-on-13s that some people are normal.

Go back to bed and turn off light. Tired coaxes Insistent into his box... Hopeful places diary on top of the lid.....


Anonymous said...

Man, and I thought my life sucked when I lived in a college.

You win. And happy (belated) birthday, lovey!

Anonymous said...

wait... your neighbour's a lady of the night? LITERALLY?

Woah. You have a crazy apartment building.

cheesecakeerian said...

I have sucky housemates too.