
[See also: Why I despise my downstairs frat boy neighbors]
11:40: Just got off the phone with Adam and am walking back to my bedroom.
11:41: Changed into my PJs, ready to read Jen Lancaster and fall into a sweet sweet slumber
11:42:30: Is that ABBA?
11:42:35: It IS ABBA, but what song?
11:42:45: OMG the frat boys are blaring “Dancing Queen”
11:42:47: I hit the floor, ear to carpet, listening and giggling at this picture I’ve drawn in my head of frat boys dancing around their apartment and singing “Dancing Queen”
11:43:15: Man, I’m tired. I need to sleep. [Gets up off floor]
11:43:18: But what if the next song is equally entertaining? [Walks and stands in the corner to listen to more music]
11:43:20: What’s this?
11:43:32: It’s The Eagles…
11:43:34: It’s Hotel California
11:44:25: I call Adam.
11:44:27: Adam’s working, and says, “That’s umm interesting” as a I regale him with the scenarios that are popping into my head at this very moment about the neighbors’ playlist.
11:50: Adam tells me he needs to get back to work so he can finish laundry and pack to visit me on Thursday.
11:50:10: “Don’t go!” I shout, not wanting to miss the opportunity to share the next song choice with him.
11:50:30: Distract Adam with my sleepy ramblings while I try to figure out the next song…
11:50:35: It’s the Bee Gees, not nearly as random, we say our goodbyes.
11:51:35: We are done saying our goodbyes.
11:53: Oooh! Foreigner, “Feels Like the First Time”
11:54: Seriously, WHAT are THEY doing down there…
11:54:45: Ok, the charm of this is starting to wear off. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that it’s almost midnight on a school night.
11:54:46: Did I just say school night?
11:54:50: Head to bathroom to wash face, brush teeth, etc. etc.
11:58: Get into bed with Jen’s new book.
11:58:09: New Song!!
11:58:10: No. Freaking. Way.
11:58:11: Jump out of bed and begin to dance.
11:58:30: Grab hairbrush and lip-synch to Manfred Mann “Blinded by the Light”
12:04: Ok, seriously, Megan. Get in bed and stay there, you have to be at work in 8 hours.
12:04:30: Fleetwood Mac begins.
12:04:45: It’s “Dreams”. Fitting since it’s way past my bedtime.
12:04:50: Continue reading Jen.
12:06: Oh no they didn’t. I KNOW they didn’t just skip “Dreams”.
12:06:10: I’m pissed and I’m tired.
12:07: An unidentifiable song begins blaring.
12:07:30: I text Adam saying I’m about to go postal.
12:08: No response.
12:09: Continue reading.
12:10: This music is getting louder (and not any better).
12:14: I call the courtesy officer pager.
12:14:30: Courtesy officer calls me right as the music is shut off.
12:14:32: Of Course.
12:14:40: Apologize for bothering her, tell her I can’t hear their music anymore, and not to worry about it.
12:14:45: She tells me not to hesitate calling her back if the music comes back to an unacceptable level.
12:15: Remember nothing after this point.
7:10: I wake up with “Blinded by the Light” stuck in my head.