I just wrapped fifteen Christmas gifts with $1 worth of wrapping paper, thanks to the Dollar Spot at Target. I finished doing my shopping this afternoon, and needed to get the five thousand bags off my floor, so I decided I might as well start wrapping. Since I was feeling so accomplished, I decided I’d take a break and do some nice quiet time things, but it appears that is not an option on a Saturday night in this building I call home.
There have been approximately forty-seven shopping cart collisions right outside my door, and I’m pretty sure I missed some sort of a parade featuring large stampeding animals on the floor above me. Now I’m angry and irritated, and have no desire to stay in my apartment and continue to hear ridiculous random noises that are loud enough to shake the things on my walls. What kind of a parent lets their 48 children play soccer and/or hide-and-seek and/or shopping cart smash up derby in a public hallway? The easy answer? The people in the apartment next to mine.
#113 if you want to come kick their door in. I have a sick fantasy of doing it every time I let Riley out in the middle of the night. I’d put on my fake-Timberlands and just kick the shit out of that door. Granted, with my awesome luck, I would dislocate a hip or only get my foot halfway through before it got stuck. So, instead, I just bitch about it because I’m a passive aggressive asshole and everything makes me angry lately.
Later that night… I just took naps. Two of them. And now I feel amazingly better. And will probably be awake until sunrise.