Sound travels strangely in apartment buildings. I know this. I know that the hammering that feels like it is RIGHT behind my couch could be coming from anywhere in this building.
When I had full-time jobs that took me out of my apartment this wasn't a problem. There would be the odd tapping and banging, but nothing to get me irate. I invented a character to explain the various sounds away: the Carpenter Chihuahua.
Often, the tapping was light, and then there would ocassionally be the sound of a bell bouncing around on the floor - that is, my ceiling. For some reason, a chihuhua wielding a small hammer came to mind. Perhaps he built curio cabinets. Or mini race-tracks for his little cars. And obviously he had a collar that had a bell on it - which he did not wear, but rather, constantly pushed out of the way.
Now, however, I am home, and the incessant tapping, banging, hammering (not loud enough to really complain about, not long enough to tune out - just these short bursts) is making me CRAZY. It's beyond curio cabinets. He's obviously building wooden maquettes of the wonders of Europe. He probably on to Pisa now. Jerk.
And what do I do? Stalk each corridor till I locate the sound, then call security and say, "I know where the chihuahua is!"?
No, I'll just stay here, going crazier. Screw him. I'll teach my cat how to use a jig-saw and make metal sculptures so there will be grrrinding metal and screeeching metal all day long and then we'll see who's crazy.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
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1 comment:
Too bad I just sold my drumset, otherwise you could return the favor tenfold (and get driven out...)
AB
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