Won't you be my neighbor

It's 1:30 am and I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about ways to kill my downstairs neighbor. At 5:30pm today she was pounding on her ceiling because I was making too much noise. I pounded back because all I was doing was walking around and talking loud. Not screaming, not jumping up and down. She'll pound on her ceiling if I drop a bowl in my kitchen. I feel harrassed. She's a constant presence in my household. Her phantom face constantly shushing us as we try to live our lives out loud. I don't have a drum kit, I don't play my stereo loudly. I don't have parties, I don't do much of anything after 9pm. Up until now, every time she's bitched at me, I've complied with her demeands for silence. But at 5:30pm I think it's my right to have two friends over and to walk around my apartment and laugh and speak above a whisper. I don't give a fuck if you're sleeping. That's your fucking fault. Get some fucking tissue and stick it in your ears and leave me the hell alone. And when someone pounds on your ceiling what kind of reaction are they expecting to get? "Oh, my bad, better shush up I've been so rude, woops, my bad?" No way. The only response a normal human being is going to have is Fuck You! Stereo's not on. TV's off. I'm not slamming doors or doing anything out of the ordinary. I'm just trying to live my life at a volume level that I decide on, not my neighbor. I've never once complained about a neighbor. I've had neighbor's who's children threw rocks at me and I didn't complain. Slings and arrows, right? One of the many unpleasantnesses that goes with sharing the planet with 5 billion people, right?


And the thing is, none of my other neighbors complain. The people beside me can here me clickity clackity typing away right now at 1:30 am but they've never said anything about the noise I make ever. The lady downstairs lives with other people. Her roommates have never complained to me. So right now, in my fevered sleep deprived state, I think the only solution is murder. I'm thinking poisonous spider in her mailbox. Or something with snakes. I want her to be totally fucking freaked out and then die immediately. Should I be posting this on my blog? Probably not, but I don't have a diary and this is the only outlet I have at this hour. Talking to Alison about it is fun and helpful to a point but frankly I don't like letting the jerk downstairs take up our precious energy and conversation time. I got shit to do. Cartoons to draw. Taxes and whatnot. I don't have time for homicidal fantasies. But when she pounds on my floor like that, my whole day is shot. I can't hold down my end of a conversation because I'm busy composing nasty fuckyou notes and Googling this shit. It's out of control.



My question is, what are my rights? At what point does her complaining become harrassment? Can I sue her, get her evicted, at least plausibly threaten to do that? Or is she able to bully me into moving just because she's hypersensitive noise and a control freak? Anybody got some advice I can use? And don't tell me just to be quiet, because I AM QUIET, GODDAMNIT!! And don't tell me to ignore her because I can't. She makes sure of that.