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The things I hate about you

It started with the man who fell over the stairwell, an incident that I completely believe was not her fault. But can it be any coincidence that this one event started less than a week after she moved in? That this one event was only the beginning of my late night woes?

Next in line came the incessantly barking dogs. I wanted to kick them, but since I am an animal lover and would never kick an animal (push with my foot, maybe, but never kick), I would have settled for kicking her quite hard. If only she had 'nads. Then she put a nice 'sorry for being so inconsiderate' note on the door and I felt a smidge bad for being so angry with her.

She cannot seem to figure out how to park her vehicle. There are four parking spots in front of our four-plex, each with their own bright green painted log marking each spot. One spot per apartment. It's not that difficult to figure out. B and I park 2 deep, but still behind our one designated bright green log. A few different times we have come home to find her half in our spot and half in hers.

And her car is constantly leaking. Oil, coolant, power steering fluid, blood, guts, plasma, liters at a time. Anything and everything that could possibly leak out of a vehicle is collecting in a nice large pool that is her parking space. I hope the landlords have seen it.

Then Sunday night I went to bed around 11.30p and heard the washer and dryer still running. The cut-off time for laundry is 10.30. I love this cut-off time because both machines sit along a wall shared with my bedroom, making for very difficult sleep. I did what I normally do when a neighbor has let their laundry run a bit long: I stopped both machines, and put a note asking that she not do laundry after 10.30.

Ten minutes later, I hear the machines start back up. Again I stopped the machines, but this time I pulled the blanket from the washer dripping wet and plopped it into the dirty tub sink, and pulled the damp whites from the dryer and tossed them onto the counter. I replaced the note.

Fifteen minutes, and the machines start up again. Ohnoshed'nt. B and I brainstormed what else we could do to keep her from running those awfully loud machines. B went upstairs to talk to her about it and found her sitting at the top of the stairs smoking. In a no smoking machine. Blah blah dog peed on blanket whine whine didn't know it was late. So I called the landlords.

Yes, I tattled.

I can handle laundry being done a little after 10.30, but (now midnight), she was pushing that too much. I had to be at work the next morning. I can also put up with an attitude of, "My being inconvenienced is worth me inconveniencing you." What I cannot and will not handle is smoke in the building.

I find myself thinking of ways to inconvenience her: let Lacey run to the top of the stairs and sniff under her door, barking and causing her dogs to bark, when I get up at 7am; keying the side of her awfully leaky car; put nasty notes under her door and on her car; parking as close to her car as I possibly can, rendering the driver door useless.

Okay, so I haven't gotten far or creative with the revenge ideas. But at least the few ones I have make me happier.