My blessing for the day? I have a wonderful job. Sure, I have my gripes, we all do, but I couldn't ask for a better boss, and the pay is great! If I would just stop spending more than I make...
I arrived at home yesterday pondering a nap but thinking that I should really clean up a bit since I am way off schedule with getting my next catalog out and I can't work on that until I get my computer plugged back in and so on and so forth. I decided to skip the nap in part because my floor was thumping. I didn't want a repeat of Wednesday's nap attempt which may have been a waste of time. So, I read, since Shannon brought over a WHOLE BAGFUL of books for me the other night. (I'm very joyful about the books) and no, I didn't get any cleaning done.
A couple of hours go by and the music continues. I try to tune it out, but it is difficult because not only can I hear and feel it through the floor, but I have opened up the porch door to let some fresh air in, something I have been unable to do over the last couple of months because it has been so dang hot. I can hear the music through the door too. Every so often, I hear a song I like and think, well, at least they have decent taste in music.
Then, it happened. Justin. Singing about his Sexy Back, or whatever it is he's singing about. I know I have mentioned how this song is like nails on a chalkboard to me. Like metal scraping on the sidewalk for those who have never experienced chalkboards. (I'll have to consider that further. I feel a ponder post coming on) I tried to bear it, but a black cloud was rapidly forming over my head. I tried to breath through it but the high pitched whining strains were going strait to the evil switch in my head. I became increasingly agitated.
I stormed downstairs (as much as I ever storm. I do not exhibit anger very noticably) and knocked on the door. The dogs barked. I waited and knocked again. Still no answer from the people in the house. So I went upstairs and wrote a nastygram. it said, "Please Turn down your music it rattles my floor. Thank you" on bright yellow construction paper. In black marker. I taped it on the door for all the world to read and returned upstairs. It was another half hour at least before the music went away. I returned to my book and tried to relax, but I was so angry I was shaking.
I was halfway into my Harbucks shift before I finally calmed down.
I try to be a courteous neighbor. I hardly play music, and when I do, it is low. I try ot keep my TV at a reasonable level. I walk softly do that my elephant feet don't disloge the accoustic from the ceiling down below. (My footsteps have been described as "confident") In other words, I try to impact my neighbors as little as possible. I would prefer they not even know I am there. I understand that they, like I, pay a lot to live there. So, come on! a little bit of courtesy please!!