So, my house is a little cute post-WWII boom house. All of my neighbors have more cars than they have driveway for…

Six or seven years ago when my back yard neighbors moved in, they had a Round-Up party that included a live, loud band in their back yard well past one in the morning. It started a steady level of loathing that might have led to me inappropriately shrieking at them from my back yard around midnight a year later. I can totally acknowledge I lost my shit out of sheer frustration and it did no good.

Unfortunately for me, the back yard situation works like an amphitheater which means all the noise drifts up my back hill—I used to think they were loud on purpose, then I figured out the amphitheater factor. Although a few of their guests (who maybe remember the one time I list my shit over five years ago?) get really loud with yips and whoops and what-not.

My current problem is that my migraines have leveled up about the same time their parties are leveling up. I’m sure they are fine people. They clearly have a solid social circle and they like to get together—I can respect that (and the Prozac helps). I don’t think they are horrifyingly obnoxious on purpose 84% of the time (this is growth on my part). I just hate that I have to close my back door (the only one with a screen) and my bedroom windows on nice nights to limit how much I hear. For example, I shut my curtains tonight to limit other people seeing into my bedroom and limit the brightness from the fire they always have going. I love looking out my windows at night. I love being able to feel the breezes and general sounds of the town, but I don’t want any clarity on what my neighbors and their guests talk about. I already hear far more than I want to.

It’s not that late, but I’m tired and my audiobook volume is a little louder than normal. My cats aren’t thrilled because the curtains block their view. My head hurts. And suddenly I’m thinking about how much it’s going to cost to get the tree cut back a bit and where I’m going to magically find the money…adulting isn’t often awesome or something I’ve excelled at recently.

They haven’t changed—thankfully I gained some sanity when I got on a good anti-depressant and was able to easily acknowledge I’m not a factor for them.

I am pretty sure they’ll appreciate me if I can afford to get the tree trimmed, because those leaves are a bit much in the fall and I haven’t felt nearly enough guilt about how many leaves end up in their back yard (which is super passive aggressive and petty).

I want to keep my tree healthy and thriving.

I love my tree.

Sweet dreams, I guess.

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