The return of the horn blower upstairs. …the source, the impetus, the raison d’être for this blog; the reason I have to remind myself on a daily basis: DON’T KILL YOUR NEIGHBOR (Please, sir, may I?)
You know how it is: when pain disappears we have a tendency to forget about it. It’s nature’s way.
All of a sudden this evening, as I sat relaxing, watching television, I heard a sound which at first I couldn’t identify. Was someone being killed? Should I call the police? Then, with that sick, cold feeling of dread spreading from my stomach to all parts of my body, I knew…
He’s baaaaack! The sanctity of my home, my privacy, my beloved quiet – was ripped asunder once again.
Immediately, I was thrown into full-on mm (that’s murderous mode). My PIC attempted to calm me as I careened, wild-eyed through the rooms of my apartment, seeking escape from the earworm of cacophony from upstairs. I had been in a fool’s calm. The old reality was still in play.
So, the story continues, I will, each day, confront my ultimate dilemma: Should I or shouldn’t I? So far, I’m still listening to the voice which urges me:
Don’t kill your neighbor!