Manic Musings

Tuesday, October 16, 2007


*Sometimes I want to shoot apartment living in the face. My sleep is very precious to me (and I am cursed with being a very light sleeper - it's like my body takes any opportunity to stay awake) and nothing pisses me off more than when I can hear my neighbours. For example, the studio next to mine has always been dead quiet...that is until a month ago when suddenly, at midnight, I could hear their TV blaring through the walls, as clear as a whistle. In fact, I could go stand in the kitchen and still make out everything they were saying, so you can imagine how bad it was by my pillow, where it seems they are aiming their TV.

Anyway, I figured most of the sound was coming from the vents so I stuffed a blanket down there to somewhat muffle the noise. Only problem is that muffling it doesn't quite stop it, so I had to write a note to my neighbour about it. It was vaguely threatening mainly because I wrote it in the morning in the throes of a bad night's sleep.

I have to say it worked. Now when he plays the tv it's fairly quiet (though I'm not ready to remove the blanket from the heater....even though it means I can't turn on the heat in my apartment) and I can rest easy.

Sorta.

Then there is the IDIOT above me. I fucking want to blow the moron's brains out. He's always smoking out of his window, dribbling ash down on mine and talking very loudly on his phone. At night he stomps through the apartment and repeatedly drops what sounds like bowling balls. If the hockey game is on, he'll have a friend or too over, open his window and proceed to yell out of it.

Last night, after the fifth bowling ball went astray and it sounded like he was hopping after it on one heavy shoed leg, I had enough. I turned into that neighbour from Friends. I didn't have a broom handy though, and the Swifer sweeper only made pathetic whacks against my ceiling so I picked up my guitar and started hurtling it upwards. The paint from the ceiling rained down on me but I didn't care. If you interrupt my sleep, I will make it my mission to destroy you. In fact, I get more angry and She-Hulkish than I do when driving which says a lot.



*I've been jogging every week day in an effort to slim down before Halloween and in general, just lose my out-of-shapeness. Last Friday was absolutely gorgeous, a warm, sunny and vibrant fall day. On my way back from my jog I stopped at a bench overlooking the calm blue ocean and just had some time alone with my thoughts - or lack of.

Of course, this doesn't prevent some fucking moron on a bike to swoop past and yell, "Look at you, so lonely."

WTF?

Why is it that I can never fucking sit somewhere and just think without having some sorry excuse for a man make some patronizing comment. Why the fuck can't you men just leave me alone? Just because a woman is sitting alone it is not a sign for you to A) make some belittling comment on how lonely I must be JUST BECAUSE I'm not fucking surrounded by moronic men like yourself or B) hit on me, cuz you know, if a woman is alone it MUST mean she's looking for male attention. YAAAARG!



* In other news, I think I may be losing my mind. I went for lunch with my father the other day. After too much Sake, I headed back to my car. OK, it probably wouldn't have been that wise for me to drive but it didn't matter anyway because I couldn't find my car keys. Turned out they were locked in the car.

Yup. Just sitting there in the ignition.

This is the 3rd time I have done this since July and the oddest thing is that my keys do make a beeping sound if you leave them in the ignition, so I don't really understand. I must be pulling them out of the ignition just slightly and leaving them there but I have no idea why.

So after putting my billionth call into BCAA and waiting an hour before the guy came over and jimmied my door open, I decided to go to my car's dealership and get an extra key made. This would ensure that no matter what, I could always get into my car.

I tucked the spare key in my wallet and off I went to my boyfriend's house.

The next morning, as he was leaving for work, I once again noticed I couldn't find my keys.

I walked over to my car and looked in. Sure enough, my keys were once again in the ignition.

At that point I just grabbed my head and wailed. Surely, I am losing my mind. Not to mention that later that day, I lost my debit card.

What the hell is wrong with me? Am I really going mental? Do I have early alzheimers? Do I need to eat more salmon or something? Do I need to see a doctor?

Or is this just me and something I have to get used to?

Sigh.
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