bangers and mash

I awoke this morning to banging and stomping. At 8:30 am I thought, “well, that’s nice, the new person upstairs doesn’t have to be at work like the girl before who woke up at 6:30 every morning.” I thought that it would be nice, we’d be on similar schedules during the school year and if I overslept, which does sadly happen, maybe the stomping could be my back up alarm. Then, 45 minutes later I was cussing and actually picking up a nearby stick and banging on the ceiling. I couldn’t believe I had stooped so low. I have never banged on the ceiling. Stomped on the floor, yes, cause the prick below me likes to play his guitar and sing off-key and well sometimes I stomp to the non-rhythm to show him how much I enjoy his songs.

The stomping above my head happened a few weeks ago too when the girl upstairs moved out because she was, that’s right, getting married. I was not invited to the wedding (and thankfully, I have enough) because we never became friends. When I first moved in I had some neighbors round for a friendly little “let’s be friends” party. It turns out that the girl upstairs seemed totally normal and much like we could be friends. But, it think is all went south when I did two things that may have put her off. First, when she was the first to arrive we chatted about where we were from and boyfriends and what not. When she said she had met her boyfriend at church I asked what church she went to. I said that I had been looking for a church and since I was new to town, suggestions would be nice. But, when she told me it was Baptist I believe I said something like “Oh, well, I’m so NOT Baptist. So, I think I’ll keep looking.” Hm, was that insulting? Then, while chatting with the neighbor across the hall and the girl upstairs I realized about 15 minutes into the conversation that these two people did not know each other. Um, they’ve lived upstairs and downstairs from each other for 6 months, I’d been there for a week. So, I apologized and introduced them then tried to pick my mouth up off the floor and take my foot out of my mouth.

So, it’s no surprise that the girl upstairs and I never had girls night or dinner at each others place or even coffee. Shame, she seemed so normal, was it me? Hm, wonder.

For the last two days my dad has been in town. This means free dinners. This means a happy Anna and wasted food. My dad likes to come to town and forget to tell me and then call that day. That means that there will be fresh produce in my fridge bought the day before that will go bad in the next three days, precisely the time that he is here. Oh well, free dinners equals the spoilage in the fridge, I guess.

This week was extra special because he stayed at a hotel and I’ve spent the last two days at the pool and the hot tube. Then tonight, my dear dad, on Atkins, bought a roasted chicken and two small things of green beans and mashed potatoes for me. My dad, he’ll make the early morning stomping go away just by adding carbs. to his grocery list when he can’t have them. Sometimes, it’s just the little things.

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