New Neighbors, New Novel

New neighbors moved in on my floor earlier this week. It would appear that one of the new renters is related to the owner of the unit, as they kept going from one unit to the next, moving furniture that was needed from the excess the relative had stored next door. Interesting. I couldn’t quite tell, but it seemed to be a couple moving in. Though they weren’t spending the night that night, as they went away and didn’t seem to each have a set of keys yet.

A few days later I saw the most enormous cockroach I have ever seen in my building, maybe four inches long, just hanging out on the wall outside the newly moved into unit. Now, not that I am thinking these new tenants brought it in, as they seemed to have very little of their own, but that the moving perhaps disturbed any happy, fat cockroaches that might have been hanging out in the previously vacant units. Vacant units that would leave cockroaches undisturbed and free to get as large as they wanted. I walked back into my unit, and grabbed the handy bug spray I keep, and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed that happy big sucker. It was still exactly where I had left it, unphased by my shadow. I watched it fall to the carpet, land on its back, and wiggle its legs to the air. The death knell.

As I took my trash down to the dumpster, I scooped up the remains and chucked the cockroach corpse away.

The next day, as I was leaving my apartment, I could hear my new neighbor playing the bongos loudly and singing badly. Lovely. At least my neighbor downstairs really can play the guitar. I enjoy listening to her practice.

And yesterday, I came up the stairs to my unit in the middle of the afternoon, and got to hear the sounds of two very loud, lusty¬†adults having sex. Lovely. The new neighbors. Warming up their house. I have to admit, it’s only when I hear someone in my building having sex that I realize how infrequent those noises are. I guess we are a rather mostly celibate building here. Comes with the units being designed for usually only one occupant each. Or maybe the rest of us are just quiet and I don’t know what I’m talking about.

And tomorrow? Well, it’s November, and you know what that means:

it’s NaNoWriMo — National Novel Writing Month!

And this year, I will be working on it every day. I promise. As can you too! Join me, please do, and take a stab this year at writing the great American novel everyone has inside them. Maybe it will involve fantasies about what the new neighbors are really doing behind closed doors. Or what activities take place in between the walls of this old building. Or maybe not.

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