I live below Frankenstein, or as he may also be known, my fourteen-year-old nephew, and I spend a lot of my day and most of my night listening to him CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP around. He is in some sort of training to be a great big oaf, I swear! CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP goes the boy, oh and did I mention that he PACES because he’s on FUCKING ABILIFY (I curse thy name!) and FUCKING ABILIFY can give you hyperkinesia, or excessive movement for you dummies! CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP is the background narration of my LIFE! And it’s not like I can SAY anything to him, right? Because I can’t ask the poor kid to censor his very movements so the Ol’ Broad Downstairs can have a little peace, can I? No. The answer is No. Any other answer is assholian. So can I just say that I’m a little bit happy that he’s going on a trip to see his Deadbeat Daddy tomorrow for eleven days? Can I say that I will relish the peace every moment of every day? Fuck yeah I can!
I can work in peace. (See how I worked that little detail in? I’M WORKING.) I can read in peace. I can make jewelry in peace. Theoretically, I could masturbate in peace. Theoretically. Best of all, I can BE in peace. And quiet. DAMN when did I become such an Introvert?