Dear loud mouths,
I think it’s great that you had something to be so excited about at 2 am on a Sunday night. Your enthusiasm for life is admirable. However, it woke me the eff up out of a deep and meaningful REM cycle. This isn’t the first time it’s happened either.
I used to mistake your antics for the people that lived next door. I even banged on the wall and yelled expletives to them on one occasion. But after repeated occurrences and careful listening, I discovered that the culprit was in fact you. (Apologies to those living next door to us. My bad.) As much as I want to, I’ve decided I shouldn’t bang on the ceiling, unless I want to align myself with the likes of Mr. Heckles and Mickey Rooney’s clearly racist stint as Holly Golightly’s Japanese landlord.
So I lay there, while you continue to irritate me, and I get angrier and angrier. I’m one one of those people who can’t sleep if there is noise. And I’m a light sleeper, so a loud noise will wake me up. The Hubbster, on the other hand, is a heavy sleeper, and this woke him up too. Seriously, can’t you just take a look at the clock and realize that people are trying to sleep? Or look out the window. See how there aren’t any lights on in the building? That means shut up. Or I will have to get my broom.