WHEEEE-(fuckin')-OOOO. End of the quarter isn't until two weeks, but I've been staying up nights just so I can finish most of my shit by Monday...out of three studio classes, this is Nigh Impossible.
But it's happening. I need sleep, and caffeine, probably in that order. But I will get this done way ahead of time, so I'll spend my last few classes kicking back and...dozing off.
Oh, and I'm going to kill the people living in my apartment complex (if you could even call it a complex). Did I mention that yet? Well, I am.
Downstairs, directly below us, are our landlords. That's already a warning sign. Nice people. Nice, old people. Nice, old, stupid people. Nice old stupid people that annoy the hell out of me.
The husband has this tendency to disregard anything you say while apparently still listening to you. And saying, "yeah, I know, I know," repeatedly during conversation--not in that manner that means he understands what you're talking about, but in the manner that suggests that he thinks he is all-knowing. When he's not. Because we wouldn't be having half the conversations we do if he DID know.
And he has this tendency to hire out random (and sketchy, not just random) people off the streets to renovate places, I.E. our apartment before we moved in. This would be hugs and jellybeans, but one of these morons came by at nine thirty at night to ring up our apartment and ask about the tenant upstairs, a la stalker.
Actually, to be more specific, he rang up and asked if we were the owner of the white truck outside. Figuring this was probably a meter maid that followed the street sweeper, we told him it was the lady above.
Only, he knew who she was, and tried to get her to come downstairs and unlatch the door. Now, I don't like our upstairs tenant much, as nice as she is (she treats us like we're five fuckin' years old, I don't care if you were a school teacher), I have to agree with her that this was creepy.
So, we went downstairs to get the number of the guy, about an hour after the call was made. And while our landlord's getting us the number, his stupid wife calls from the other room, "You know, his brother (who also was working for them) just said he likes to talk a lot to people. That's just what he does."
As if he were harmless.
But, NO. Nine thirty at night? We don't do construction at nine-thirty at night. This neighborhood rarely sees anyone outside its tenants. So what. The. Fuck.
How ignorant can you get? ARGH.
...
And then, our ridiculous upstairs tenant had the nerve to tape up a sign on the downstairs door that says "Locked?" in big, bold letters.
Ahem. I'm an adult. That's degrading. If she thinks we're leaving the door unlocked (which we aren't...well, barring one of my roommates when she forgets her keys, but there's not much we can do there), she should flat out talk to us about it. Not pussyfoot around the bush. Lady, buy a clue. It's not cute. It's insuting.
I should print out some signs and tape them around the place..."Mailbox?"..."Doormat?"
*Ahem.* Anyway. Now that that's been up chucked on my journal, I shall return to my homework.
I know, how could I do such a thing instead of look at pretty naked girls, right?
But it's happening. I need sleep, and caffeine, probably in that order. But I will get this done way ahead of time, so I'll spend my last few classes kicking back and...dozing off.
Oh, and I'm going to kill the people living in my apartment complex (if you could even call it a complex). Did I mention that yet? Well, I am.
Downstairs, directly below us, are our landlords. That's already a warning sign. Nice people. Nice, old people. Nice, old, stupid people. Nice old stupid people that annoy the hell out of me.
The husband has this tendency to disregard anything you say while apparently still listening to you. And saying, "yeah, I know, I know," repeatedly during conversation--not in that manner that means he understands what you're talking about, but in the manner that suggests that he thinks he is all-knowing. When he's not. Because we wouldn't be having half the conversations we do if he DID know.
And he has this tendency to hire out random (and sketchy, not just random) people off the streets to renovate places, I.E. our apartment before we moved in. This would be hugs and jellybeans, but one of these morons came by at nine thirty at night to ring up our apartment and ask about the tenant upstairs, a la stalker.
Actually, to be more specific, he rang up and asked if we were the owner of the white truck outside. Figuring this was probably a meter maid that followed the street sweeper, we told him it was the lady above.
Only, he knew who she was, and tried to get her to come downstairs and unlatch the door. Now, I don't like our upstairs tenant much, as nice as she is (she treats us like we're five fuckin' years old, I don't care if you were a school teacher), I have to agree with her that this was creepy.
So, we went downstairs to get the number of the guy, about an hour after the call was made. And while our landlord's getting us the number, his stupid wife calls from the other room, "You know, his brother (who also was working for them) just said he likes to talk a lot to people. That's just what he does."
As if he were harmless.
But, NO. Nine thirty at night? We don't do construction at nine-thirty at night. This neighborhood rarely sees anyone outside its tenants. So what. The. Fuck.
How ignorant can you get? ARGH.
...
And then, our ridiculous upstairs tenant had the nerve to tape up a sign on the downstairs door that says "Locked?" in big, bold letters.
Ahem. I'm an adult. That's degrading. If she thinks we're leaving the door unlocked (which we aren't...well, barring one of my roommates when she forgets her keys, but there's not much we can do there), she should flat out talk to us about it. Not pussyfoot around the bush. Lady, buy a clue. It's not cute. It's insuting.
I should print out some signs and tape them around the place..."Mailbox?"..."Doormat?"
*Ahem.* Anyway. Now that that's been up chucked on my journal, I shall return to my homework.
I know, how could I do such a thing instead of look at pretty naked girls, right?
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
good luck with classes .
and shame for not looking at the girls