Friday...la dee dah...

Winding up the work week here. Funny how I still think of weekdays as being a work week for me even though I do the same sorts of things regardless of the day of the week.

Both B and I have been sleepy-cranky today. The freakshow that's moved to the apartment above us has done its best to wake us up and piss us off.

Example? At 7:30 this morning their phone rang (and may I add that I have never heard before another neighbor's phone ring) and shortly thereafter the husband began screaming "IT'S ALL SHIT! IT'S ALL SHIT!". Stupid bastard sounded like he was in the same room with us. This is after he spent last night for a good 45 minutes screaming "Uhhhhhhgggggghhhhhaaaaaaahhhh!" over and over. My MIL today said a man living on the tenth floor heard him. These freaks live on the third floor.

I just want it to stop. I'm sorry the man is brain damaged and I might would be compelled to believe he can't help himself except for the fact that everyone who's known that family for years will say he was a shitheel before his brain damage and was a screamer then as well. I really do realize that his problem is not always within control but why does my family have to suffer as well? This isn't a hospital. This isn't a rehabilitation center. This isn't a nursing home. It's a large apartment building with many, many other families and we shouldn't have to suffer because they've got a problem. The family below me with all the kids get loud but they're silent movie compared to the bunch above me. I'll take their crying babies and toddler fit pitching any day over some guy screaming at the top of his lungs "SCHEISSE!!! SCHEISSE!!".

My husband can't move. He's housebound 98.9% of the time. Correct that. He's roombound 98.9% of the time. He can't just get up and leave when these people become noisy and disruptive. He doesn't get a break from it. He's got to sit there and take it and by God it's not fair to him.

They're either going to have to shut this guy up or move. That's my position on this. If he's in such head pain that he screams like a banshee on and on and on, he needs some serious drugs for it. I'm not having my family be made miserable because of their problem.

I didn't even want to get started on this but there it is. I feel like I'm being a hardass about this but my family deserves better than to listen to screaming and cursing from some stranger.

On to better things...because if I don't change the topic I'm going to be in a pissed off mood all over again.

Talked to my friend, M, today. She's been out of work sick for a week and it was time to talk to her to get the lowdown on how she's been doing. She called when Wolfgang was here (he needed to borrow the elevator key from us...said he'd be here at 6pm to get it, showed up at 7:20...typical Wolfgang, eh?) and since I don't like to hold trans-atlantic phone conversations with visitors around I told her I'd call her back in ten minutes. That means, by golly, Wolfgang, say what you have to say and get your ass out of here.

He took the hint after nearly fifteen minutes. Mr. Quick-on-the-Uptake.

Loved talking to M though. She's had a bad bout of the flu and I hope she gets her strength back this weekend. I worry about her and I can't stand that I'm too far away to help her.

For the second day in a row I haven't knit on the cowl/fuzzy bear. Didn't get time but didn't make time either. I'm starting to wonder whether I'm losing my interest in the project. I only feel maybe 50% certain that this thing will be right and the other half tells me I'm going to have a lovely afternoon sometime soon frogging it all.

And may I just add that while I was in Karstadt yesterday I didn't even go over to the yarn, not even for a peek. I was tempted but resisted. I have yarn. I have projects already set up for the yarn I have. I don't need to add more to the pile.

The carpenter guy comes Monday at noon to measure the kitchen to make sure what we bought will fit and that we have enough plugs, check the water hookups, etc. It's now feeling more real to me that we'll be having a new kitchen put in. This weekend I've got to really clean the kitchen to the nth degree, including scrubbing the never-seems-to-quite-look-clean floors so the carpenter dude doesn't think we're pigs.

I'm tempted to say "No, the pigs live one floor above us." but that would be very wrong of me to do that.

See what sleep deprivation does to me?