600th Post - How Appropriate That It's A Rant

Blogger tells me this is my 600th post. Seems a great milestone to be all retrospective and proud of my little blog. But it's after 3 am. My legs hurt. My heart hurts. And I'm still not 100% sure I'm not going to cry. (don't worry - it's just adrenaline - sounds much worse than it is)

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An Open Letter to the @$$HOLE Downstairs:

I wasn't kidding. Next time, I will call the sheriff's office. And in case you didn't hear the words I was screaming when my husband clapped his hand over my mouth, I called you a son of a bitch. Do you know why? That's what I call people who wake me up at 1:30 in the morning with their floor-shaking thump-thump music.

Yes, I jumped up and down in the middle of my dining room. And when that didn't stop your music, I jumped up and down even harder and longer in the middle of my living room. And then the music stopped. But I still can't believe you had the audacity to knock on MY door and tell ME that I was inconsiderate for stomping on your ceiling (I'll just assume that's what you meant when you said "you don't gotta be stompin on my ceilin.").

I'm not going to stomp any more. The fury-filled-adrenaline-rush-jumping-and-stomping-spree left me with sore feet, and I have random muscle cramps in both legs. But I have used this sleepless time constructively. I found the non-emergency phone number for the local Sheriff's Office and posted it for easy reference under my computer monitor. Your floor-shaking loud music hardly seems like a reason to call 911, but it is against the law, and I'm sick of playing nice.

We have called the apartment managers on five separate occasions to complain about your loud music. You haven't listened to them. Maybe you'll listen to the cops.

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Why is it so hard for people to understand that apartment buildings aren't sound-proof booths? I am so sorry I ever thought unkind thoughts about Mia and her boyfriend having loud sex on weekend mornings. I would give anything to have the door-slamming aerobics instructor back. And I am incredibly disappointed that we didn't upgrade to a two bedroom (in another building) when we renewed our lease for another year.

Here it is, now after 3:30 in the morning. I have to be up at 8:00 to go into work and train for six hours. Yeah, definitely not going to make it through the next 18 hours without crying. I'm so damn exhausted and I still can't sleep. And it's definitely too late to take anything. Oh well, at least the Tylenol seems to have helped a little with the leg cramps. Maybe I'll get two or three hours of sleep before the alarm goes off.