Here I sit, typing away, working on various projects. I know my friend Curly is probably wondering what's happened to me. Am I living a peeve-free existence? Worry not, Curly and companion readers! Here is a peeve posted in real time.
Here I sit, typing away, seated at my desk in my little apartment. Outside, in the hallway, my neighbor is playing ball with his son. Again. Smack. Thwack. Bump. Sounds like kickball to me, despite the fact that there's no room in the hallway for such a diversion.
Don't they recall Carol Brady's admonition not to play ball in the house? Don't they realize that just because they leave their own apartment they are still in a house? An apartment house? Where other people live (and work)?
It's noisy, and it's rude, and it peeves me.
(Yes, I've opened my apartment door and kindly asked them to quiet down--once. But all that seemed to accomplish is having them turn the corner to the other part of the hall. I still hear you, guys!)
--Prunella
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