The fucker across the hall would not stop playing Beethoven. Its pissing me off. It's three in the morning, I'm tired as hell, I have to get up at 6:00 AM, and the new neighbor doesn't understand the fucking building rules.
I groan and pull my pillow over my head, trying to drone out the noise from across the hall. I have yet to see this damn new neighbor, who moved in a week ago, and who apparently has a habit of making a fucking racket when normal people are trying to sleep.
I throw an arm over my head to block out the stream of moonlight that falls over my pillow- I guess the world just doesn't want me to get any sleep tonight. My thoughts drift away to buildings and contracts and marble, but again I am jolted back to the present by the persistent music. Finally, after another hour of hell, the music stops and I immediately fall asleep.
The next morning I wake at five, as usual, and feel like my eyes are coated in sand. I painstakingly open my eyes to the silence of the grey dawn, normally of my favorite part of the day. It's warm and quiet but I can't appreciate it because I'm so damn tired. If that fucker tries to pull that shit again tonight I'm going to go over to his place and let him know how it works here. I wrench myself off my mattress and pull on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, searching blindly in the half-dark light of morning for the refrigerator. I manage to find some leftover pizza for Bear, my giant black lab mutt, and make coffee for myself before grabbing my keys and heading out the door. Bear follows me as usual but while I lock the front door behind me, instead of trying to lick my leg off or chasing his tail, he eagerly gallops down the hall to where the door to my new neighbor slams shut before I can get a glimpse of the person.
After a long, hot day on the site and a hasty dinner with Paul and Shawn, I head home. I really enjoy owning my own construction company, especially since it's doing well and I'm only 28, but it's also a pain in the ass because I have to work as hard as I can everyday to keep up my company's reputation. And that's not easy when shit keeps me up all night.
I walk along the semi-crowded street toward my building, past the noisy restaurants and florescent convenience shops, and watch the people around me spin in their own little spheres. It's nice living in the city on nights like this, where so much is happening and there are so many people but somehow they all fit together and manage to get along. Sometimes, increasingly, I feel lonely walking past these people with their bright lives and their bright families. But most of the time, including tonight, I just like to walk next to them and observe, on my way to my small, quiet, adequate apartment.
I guess I'm not lonely, although my younger sister lives 300 miles away and my parents simply don't live anymore. They passed away in a car crash five years ago, but I don't think about that often for my own sanity. Instead, I focus on my company, and Bear, and email my sister Sophie often. No, I thought, as I strolled along, Just because I'm alone doesn't mean I'm lonely.
My good mood lasted all of about ten minutes until I got home and heard that fucking music from across the hall. Bear loved it though, he went nuts running around the apartment trying to figure out where it was coming from. Damn adorable dog. I reread some contracts for a few minutes, thinking about two-by-fours, then put away my work and picked up Empire Falls. I read for a while then turned out the lights around eleven, trying to make up for the sleep I missed last night. I barely closed my eyes when I heard the music start up, Clementi tonight, start up. I sighed and clenched my eyes shut, willing my anger to subside. After as long as I could take thrashing around trying to sleep (about ten minutes) I lept up, pissed as fuck, and without even putting on shoes or a shirt strode over to the new neighbors door and banged on it. Hard.
