Remember how I said I was so happy to be home? Well, I stayed up last night to carefully place my clothes in my dresser, to hang my shirts in the closet, and generally settle in to my place. I was up late enough that I got to see Sal when he came home from his evening out.
I settled in with the book I'm reading -- The Time Traveler's Wife -- and probably stayed up a little too late reading. All in all, it was great.
Until 10:30 a.m. this morning, when my sunday morning in bed was interrupted by what, when it woke me up, seemed like an incredibly loud (and, frankly, really clear and expensive) car stereo system. It woke me up through the closed windows, through my ear plugs, and through my coma-like sleep.
Annoyed and ready to throw things, I staggered to the window to see who was this infernal motherfucker who was blasting his music of a Sunday morning, and what did I see?
I settled in with the book I'm reading -- The Time Traveler's Wife -- and probably stayed up a little too late reading. All in all, it was great.
Until 10:30 a.m. this morning, when my sunday morning in bed was interrupted by what, when it woke me up, seemed like an incredibly loud (and, frankly, really clear and expensive) car stereo system. It woke me up through the closed windows, through my ear plugs, and through my coma-like sleep.
Annoyed and ready to throw things, I staggered to the window to see who was this infernal motherfucker who was blasting his music of a Sunday morning, and what did I see?
Turns out there's some sort of community festival going on, and my apartment is directly across the street from the sound stage; the techies are testing the sound system by blasting music.
I guess I should look on the bright side. At least it's Gwen Stefani. It could be much worse. God help me.
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