How I could just kill a man...

My upstairs neighbor is going to be the death of me. Meaning, I'm going to snap and go upstairs and kill him and then be convicted of capitol murder, probably pre-meditated since I've written about it here, and then they'll send me to the chair. And not the sweet rocking one.

He (I'm assuming it's a he because no woman would make that much noise) makes so much noise I can't stand it. Now, I try to be all understanding, because I understand that since I'm on the ground floor I'm going to hear some noise. Typically, it doesn't bother me too much, but lately it's made me shout obscenities at the ceiling. I have shouted things like "What could you POSSIBLY be doing up there?" and "A curse upon your house!" and other things I'm not going to write. I was wondering why it was bothering me so much, and I realized that since I've been home during the day for the last two weeks, I'm hearing it more during the day and that's why it's bugging me more.

Why don't I just stop whining about it on the blog and do something about it? Well, that's complicated. The way I see it, I have two choices:

1. Go up and ask them to be considerate of me downstairs and try to walk softer please. It would have to be a note, because I'm really not assertive in the least when confronting people. There's a lot of hand-wringing and "um, excuse me" and other things like that.

2. Talk to the apartment complex. Let them know I'm bothered by the people above me and they need to take care of it.

In the past, I've had two incidences that make me a little gun-shy about taking care of the problem in either of those ways. Both did not work out well for me.

#1. When I lived in Florida, the man that lived above me was my father's age, and had two college-aged sons that lived with him. He wasn't too loud, but one weekend when he was out of town, his son had a lady-friend over, and was very, um, loud. So loud I couldn't hear the television over their...um discussion of politics in which I can only assume she agreed because she kept shouting 'yes'. (It doesn't just happen in the movies my friend.) So, I wrote them a note asking them to keep it down when they had guests over as I could hear everything that was going on. And the dad came down and beat on my door and yelled at me and was very mean and gave me dirty looks the whole rest of the time I lived there.

#2. Contact the management of the apartment complex. This is what I'll probably do. I just hate it, because it's like tattling to the teacher to get them in trouble. I don't know how the complex will handle it. I don't want to get the guy in trouble, but I want him to be aware that he's freaking loud. When I lived in this apartment complex before, I was in the very apartment he is in, and whoever lived below me tattled on me. There were other circumstances surrounding it, but the complex sent me the most rude, passive agressive note, and I was so pissed I decided to move out right then. And I'm just not a tattler. I teach them, but I am not one of them.

I'm going to try to stick it out until I go back to work on Monday, and then see if it just doesn't bother me as much when I'm back into my routine.

But the ceiling fan was my picture for day two, since I was awoken by a big jump on the floor from the guy above.