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To the woman downstairs, in reply to your note asking us to clean up the stairs
It occurs to me that, though we live separated by a single thin floor, I and my housemates know very little about you. You know quite a bit about us, since the day soon after we moved in when you appeared with a checklist of questions - “have they always lived together?”, “who is their estate agent?”, “how long do they plan to stay?”, “what do they all do for a living?” and many more - and worked your way through them, ticking them off carefully as you went. But there’s an imbalance here - you’re still a mystery, and in the spirit of neighbourliness we’d like to ask a few questions of you.
- Do you ever have a conversation with anyone which isn’t made up of complaining?
- Aside from noise, building insurance, dust, being extremely punctual at all times and putting notes under your neighbours’ doors, what are you passionate about?
- When you’re drifting off to sleep at ten o’clock in your little narrow bed, what thoughts pass through your mind - that is, apart from rage at us because we’re walking around and watching TV? You’ve already told us about that.
- When we moved in, how many nights of sleep did you lose over the one-inch scratch our bookcase made on the beautiful 1970s woodchip wallpaper?
- Will you ever forgive the man who let his bath overflow through your ceiling eight years ago?
- How long has it been since you felt joy?
- Do you remember what the word means? Take your time.
- If you’ve remembered, and you’d like to tell us about your last truly joyful moment, could you try to make it one which didn’t involve earplugs, scouring pads, Dysons or Windolene?
No? Oh well.
Kind regards,
Your neighbours in Flat D.
- Do you ever have a conversation with anyone which isn’t made up of complaining?
- Aside from noise, building insurance, dust, being extremely punctual at all times and putting notes under your neighbours’ doors, what are you passionate about?
- When you’re drifting off to sleep at ten o’clock in your little narrow bed, what thoughts pass through your mind - that is, apart from rage at us because we’re walking around and watching TV? You’ve already told us about that.
- When we moved in, how many nights of sleep did you lose over the one-inch scratch our bookcase made on the beautiful 1970s woodchip wallpaper?
- Will you ever forgive the man who let his bath overflow through your ceiling eight years ago?
- How long has it been since you felt joy?
- Do you remember what the word means? Take your time.
- If you’ve remembered, and you’d like to tell us about your last truly joyful moment, could you try to make it one which didn’t involve earplugs, scouring pads, Dysons or Windolene?
No? Oh well.
Kind regards,
Your neighbours in Flat D.
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I often feel quite guilty being the moany bitch neighbour from downstairs, but then again, if ever I *have* had to bang on the ceiling because it's 1am on a weeknight and they're dancing to folk music, I always take them a jar of homemade jam in the morning or give them some home grown strawberries or something.
She sounds like a right old cow.