I'm not one of those annoying people. (Having perfected other ways to annoy, I suppose.)
I tend to lie awake for awhile, my mind flitting off in a hundred different directions. I usually call myself back to myself, and do a meditative visualization and then. very. slowly. start. to. drift. off...
Unless Tim is snoring.
But tonight, his snoring was quiet and not disruptive. I had. slowly. started. to....
And suddenly, he's swearing, throwing the blankets back, and leaping out of bed.
Confused, I said, "What? What's wrong?" I hadn't even heard the phone.
He dashed out of the bedroom, and issued another volley of impatience because the phone did not get hung up in the foyer. He headed into the living room to grab the phone (good news, he had used it last) and into the library to catch the message already recording on the machine. It was a tenant. The neighbors downstairs were having a loud party and she was about fed up with these loud parties because they were an every week occurrence.
Tim went back to get dressed. I didn't envy the tenants. It takes a lot to get the man fired up, but the one thing that does it every time is getting dragged out of the house at o'dark thirty to take care of nonsense. We are very clear about the rules of the place, and about respecting the other tenants in the building.
He was back in pretty short order. It hadn't been a party at all. Just two people in their apartment getting shitfaced together while listening to music that was louder than it needed to be, given the time of the night. The tenant was three sheets to the wind, but agreeable. The music was turned down.
He walked back home. We discussed it. We've had the upstairs tenant for over 3 years now. She is dramatic and her version of events cannot always be trusted. We decided that our advice from now on would be simple. We would instruct the upstairs tenant to call the police and make a nuisance call the next time that it happens. We would let the downstairs tenant know that as well. The girl is nice and hardworking and never has had a problem with the law. She would be likely to be more conscientious about things like volumes and hours. The upstairs neighbor would be more factual in her reporting, lest she be charged for a false police report.
I was wide awake, but Tim said, "Well. I'm going back to bed." I told him that I'd be right in. I wanted to look up city ordinances.
I slipped into bed. Tim was already snoring on his side of the bed.
(There ought to be an ordinance about that.)
On my side of the bed I had just begun to. drift. off.... when I heard it. A polite knocking at the door.
Coming out of the office and through the livingroom, I'd pulled the french doors closed behind me not noticing the cat was left behind.
I got back out of bed and went into the hall. Paddy studied me placidly through the glass, waiting patiently. I opened the door and she came out with her tail held high.
I went back to bed, and the Paddington Paw-cat trotted along behind me, hopping up at the foot of the bed.
Once again, I fixed the blankets. I got my pillows just so. Once again, I began to put myself to sleep as my husband snored gently at my side. Before I was done, the cat was snoring from the foot of the bed as well..
They mock me, I tell you.