divine angst

Dear Downstairs, Dirty, Loud Neighbors:

I mean, really. You’re moving. I saw you loading shit out of your apartment today. I saw instruments being carried out. And you’ve been so good over the last week and a half–keeping relatively quiet, making yourselves scarce.

So why, WHY, did you decide to start playing music NOW? Right when I am about to EAT DINNER?

OH MY GOD. YOU SUCK.

Toodles!
k