Crankypantsing

Not Crankypantsing About Mr. Upstairs

1. The Bumpasses, bless their hearts, decided to watch the 11:00 news last night at a volume that surely made their ears bleed, because mine were dangerously close to bursting. The television finally went off around 12:30, which is way past my bedtime.

2. The complex I live in is made up of two horseshoe shaped courts. At the center of each horseshoe is a parking lot, which the apartments in that court all face. In my court, there are two families living on opposite sides of the parking lot who do not understand that patios (the concrete slabs in back of the apartments, yaknow?) are for partying. These two families–complete with squealing children–are stoop-sitters and party out front. They also like to communicate with each other by yelling across the parking lot, at the tops of their lungs. I find this behavior thoroughly baffling. It’s like they are partying together, yet separately. And loudly!

3. On my way to the laundry room last night, I noticed that the hallway smelled like bleach (not that unusual) and that the carpet outside the Bumpasses apartment was stained and soaking wet (very unusual). Should we be looking for a body?

4. I came home one day last week to find that one of my across-the-court neighbors had cranked up his stereo so loudly that I could hear it inside my apartment. I can’t even hear thunder or sirens inside my apartment, so that’s no mean feat. Double-paned windows and brick facade, you have failed me!

5. One of my neighbors owns a big-assed Cadillac (complete with fancified rims and a muffler that’s strapped into place with an old jump rope). The car is so ginormous that it does not fit into normal sized parking spaces. It hangs half-way over the sidewalk, and the other end still sticks out into the through-way. Yesterday, it was parked in the spot perpendicular to mine, with its ass end blocking my car, so that I could not pull out.

6. Number 5 is the same car that is often parked in the fire lane. Sometimes its evil twin from across the court, the acid green Cadillac, is parked there instead.

Random notes

1. I have not seen Mr. White Pit Bull (or the dog herself) in a couple of weeks. I wonder if he moved out? Or did he just get rid of his dog?

2. I have decided that Mr. Upstairs looks more like Rumpelstiltskin than Milton. Don’t ask me how I know what Rumpelstiltskin looks like, I just do.

A work-related rant:

One of my coworkers recently sold her house and is moving into a mobile home. Why, I’m not sure, but that’s not really any of my business. Except it is, because she’s done most of the realtor-ing from work, while she was on the clock. Not cool. It’s one thing to take care of the odd personal problem while you’re working (that’s what breaks are for!), but another to save it all up and treat work like it’s your own personal office.

Anyway, yesterday, when she returned from her morning break, she decided to take care of switching over her utilities. First, it was a 15 minute call to the water company. That made a certain amount of sense, because they are only open during work hours. Except, my coworker has a flex schedule and only works half days on Fridays, so she could have dealt with the water company then, instead of waiting until Monday.

After the water company, she called AT&T. WTF? Not only can you change/add/disconnect service with them online, but they have 24/7 phone support. There is no reasonable excuse for calling the phone company during work hours. She was on the phone with them for almost an hour, setting up phone, DSL, and satellite television service.

When she finally got off the phone, she commented that she was glad the call was finished before noon, because it was time for lunch. I think that’s when my head exploded. It must be nice to get paid to take care of personal business, plus getting to take a lunch (and breaks!) on top of it.

The mind wobbles!

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