The bitch is back

Last night, I finally bitched out the loud neighbor I've been complaining about forever. Confrontations aren't really my forte, so I've been avoiding being direct. Well, I've gone over there and asked, apologetically, for quieter volume and a closed door (why would you leave the front door to your aparment open??). I've knocked on the wall, even mentioned it to the landlord, without resolution. I was making plans to move, yesterday, while listening to the thundering booms of a computer game through my wall (and the hallway, thanks to the open door). I decided not to give up my apartment home, which isn't perfect, but which I certainly had planned to stay in until May, without a fight. Instead changing into clothes, and going over to make a polite speech that starts, "I'm so sorry to bother you, but.....". I went over with dishevelled hair, mismatched pjs, my old glasses from the eighties, put my hand on my hip, and started "I don't know WHAT that sound is..."

When you're a short, near-sighted, sensitive chick, sometimes it seems like it would be nice to have a parent, dog, or a big strong man to fight your battles for you. But sometimes it's good to know that you can take care of yourself.