This is a pretty good approximation of how my brain feels this morning. Mr. Upstairs (Milton) has spent the last two nights rearranging furniture, so I haven’t been getting much sleep. How much furniture can one fit into a 700sq ft apartment?! And why can’t it be (re)arranged at a reasonable hour?
I still can’t figure out when Mr. Upstairs sleeps or when he goes to work, assuming he actually does either of those things. Whenever I pass him in the hallway or parking lot, he pretends I don’t exist. Even when I say hello, he stares straight ahead and ignores me. M’kaythen!
In other neighbor news, the Bumpass family have moved into the apartment I share a wall with. I was a little apprehensive at first, but they’re surprisingly quiet. I had to laugh when I saw them moving in. Their patio is cram-packed with filthy, broken-down old furniture, and they’ve erected a Monument to Tackiness that leaves me equal parts horrified and impressed. I’ll try to get a picture of it, but for the time being, you’ll have to make do with the knowledge that it contains a bunch of glass-ornamental-garden-tchotchkes-on-sticks, US flags, and porcelain bunny planters.
Also, they’ve got the requisite Bumpass Hound, in the form of a cuter-than-hell Catahoula Leopard Dog puppy. She seems pretty well behaved, though when she gets barking, it tends to go on and on and on. Miss Brown does not approve. Whenever Miss Catahoula starts roo-roo-rooing, Harriet gets agitated and starts pacing and hrumfing.
red paper boat 