Why are you so f*ing loud? What are you dragging across your floor, aka my ceiling? Surely you can hear the television because I can hear it and I’m not even in the same room or the same floor. And it’s possible to walk without marching or is it your intention to stamp your foot through the floor, aka my ceiling?
I am done with condo/apartment style living. DONE. I would like to vow, this 22nd hour on the fourth day of the first month in the year 2011, that my next residence will be a single family home or, at the very least a free-standing condo (they do exist, found some in Hamden!). To those of you who have known me since I moved to CT, you have heard me on countless occasions swear to not buying a house in this state on the basis of my inability to commit to staying here. Well, I am chucking that philosophy out the window. I still don’t know where I’ll be in two years, or five, but after my RN program ends, I will no longer be living under a poker den, above a deaf, elderly couple, beside a pot-head who loves to blast bad rap, or next to David the Gnome who makes noises I still haven’t been able to properly identify. Okay, so I don’t live next to the David the Gnome but I used to live in a building with a guy who looked just like said gnome and who was also extremely noisy. He made sounds that resembled something like running on a treadmill but if you ever saw the man, you wouldn’t consider that he had attempted or was even capable of such an activity.
DONE.
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