I keep getting the next door neighbor's mail. So I take it to her. Not many people get their mail hand-delivered these days.
She and her... partner? wife?... anyway, they were expecting a package. I of course get the drop box key. As I was expecting a package too, I almost opened it. They giggled a lot when I delivered it, stating they were glad I didn't open it. I told them the reason I didn't was mainly because I didn't have anyone there to photodocument my expression upon discovering there had been a mix-up.
They play their video games and get a little loud. I asked them what their X-Box handles were, and they're likely going to get Borderlands. I look forward to running with them.
Now the upstairs neighbors either have an elephant, get raided by SWAT on a daily basis...
Or they have a seven year old daughter.
The constant (and I mean constant) stomping around sets me nuts. It's so constant that I know when she's asleep. From here. But whatcha gonna do? She's seven. It's winter-- and an unreasonably cold one at that. She's going just as crazy as, well, everyone else. Gods, I want it to be warm so she can go outside and run off some of that energy (or she could just give it to me; that would be good!) and her parents can calm what must be jangling nerves from the fam being cooped up like that.
Sure, sometimes I want to duct tape her to her ceiling so I can have some peace, but more, I feel sorry for her having to be inside.
These thoughts make me realize that I am the best neighbor ever.
