The Suburbs: sounding better and better every morning.

Yesterday morning I was awakened by the sound of my downstairs neighbor showering. And I’m pretty sure she wasn’t alone in there. The interruption came during that crucial 30 minutes before my alarm went off – the 30 minutes where you think “hey, maybe I should just go with it and make some coffee because I’m NEVER GOING TO GET BACK TO FUCKING SLEEP” but then decide against productivity and just lie angrily in bed, hitting the snooze once for good measure.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been roused early due to noises from the other apartment. A few weeks ago, on a Saturday, at 8 in the morning, the girl who lives there was yelling in a manner that made Katsu and I think she hadn’t ever gone to bed. I got up and had a quick two drinks, which kept me from strangling her but did not stop me from engaging in some serious vengeance fantasies. By the time I was able to get back to sleep, I’d come up with viable scenarios that included slashing her tires, pouring olive oil into her kitchen via the hole in our bedroom floor, stealing all her bras, cutting her cable line, and the writing of a strongly-worded letter which I would staple to her forehead.

Of course I did none of those things, mostly because Katsumi convinced me that she wasn’t worth going to jail over. I’m still not sold on that perspective, though, because last night, after putting in earplugs and turning in early to rectify the damage from the weekend, her boyfriend lumbered into the kitchen and started making pop-tarts.

Tell me: if you were sound asleep on a Monday night, wearing earplugs, and were awakened at some unknown hour by a drunken 21-year old yammering about pop-tarts? would you be tempted to bust through the floor with a butter knife and go all crouching-tiger on his ass? I mean, I’m not saying that I *DID* assault him with a butter knife, but if I *HAD* assaulted him with a butter knife, I would have been justified. Right?

… right?

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