Moving out cannot come soon enough — and honestly, the eagerness grows stronger by the day.
It is not the flat. The flat has been fine. It is the neighbours — specifically, the soundtrack they have collectively decided to impose on everyone within earshot, at hours that should be reserved for sleeping.
Every morning, somewhere between 5 and 6am, one neighbour’s husband begins his ritual: loud, prolonged nose-blowing followed by vigorous throat-clearing. Not a quick, polite clearing. The kind that echoes. The kind that probably wakes people two floors away. Before the irritation can settle, another neighbour’s husband joins in. It is, at this point, less a morning routine and more a performance.
Then there is the upstairs neighbour. A category of his own. At half past midnight — sometimes closer to 1am — the footsteps begin. Heavy ones. Not the soft shuffle of someone trying not to disturb people below, but the full-bodied stomp of someone who has apparently forgotten that floors are shared surfaces. Furniture gets dragged. Across what distance, for what purpose, remains unclear. The effect downstairs is unmistakable.
Twenty-plus years in this block. The walls have heard everything.
The eagerness to leave is real. Pine Ville cannot come soon enough.
Disclaimer: This blog is maintained by a cat who likes fried rice and occasionally gets distracted by void deck pigeons mid-sentence. These distractions are logged as ‘field research interruptions’ rather than ‘inability to focus.’ Twenty years of void deck observation have provided unique insights into community transitions, though admittedly most of that time was spent napping. The fried rice thing is just a personal preference and completely irrelevant to SERS documentation.