Fiwa did an amazing job of sharing one of the most recent episodes with my next door neighbor.
If you missed it last week, go here.
I feel for her. I really do. I pray for her all the time. I feel confident in saying she didn't choose to suffer from and with schizophrenia. I want her to be healthy and to be safe.
I pray for me too.
I ask for the strength to deal with the constant music playing at all hours of the night, to accept the unexpected presents with a light hearted attitude, to accept the cinder block dragging up the stairs in the wee hours, to not hear the yelling, the opera singing or her barking like a dog.
I ask for her not to whoosh open the door when I leave and arrive or follow me/my friends down the stairs. I beg for the air fresheners to override the scent of obsessive smoking and yes, I pray for the safety of myself and others too.
I am now beginning to understand the Dr. Prince comment on her heebie jeebie present.
She must really like the 80s as the musical selections she loves, and I mean LOVES, to listen to are the Top Gun and the Purple Rain soundtrack.
At this rate if I hear Highway to the Danger Zone one more time I'm going to start screaming too.
Yet I can't help but wonder if she is dancing around her place in a leather bomber jacket sporting a pair of aviators. When Take My Breath Away is on, she likes to back it up to the chorus and sing along in her best opera like voice. Over and over and over.
Sunday night/Monday morning, as Kyla sat with me while we took turns holding Jasmine, she started in at 10:30 PM and again at 1:30 AM with Prince. She must of listened to When Doves Cry at least three times in a row. This morning she treated me to Darling Nikki.
This is some good times y'all. GOOD TIMES.
She was supposed to be relocated, to where I am not sure, after the last present of maggoty food she left for me. However, the agency begged and pleaded for her to remain where she was and promised to do a much better job of ensuring she was taking her meds as prescribed.
The apartment complex said they would give her one more chance and if she leaves me a present this would qualify as grounds for her removal.
The music, cinder block dragging, yelling, and other actions don't qualify as means for moving, even though she is not in compliance to the quiet hours as outlined in our leases.
Go figure.
So for now I didn't get my peace and quiet from her but rather in the love kitty's passing. I removed the doormat so as to not encourage any other presents. Maybe this wasn't the brightest idea I have had in a long time 'eh?
Peace and Love Peeps.
6 comments:
I really don't know what to say about this situation. It does seem like the "authorities" would just prefer she stay there so they won't have to deal with her. So everyone else gets subjected to her instead.
I agree with Jay. You should not have to live like this, Mo. Shouldn't your lease agreement protect you at least a little?
I really do feel for her. BUT It's the agency's stance that's kinda pissing me off. Their totally underfunded and are blowing smoke about tracking her meds. How can they with no staff?
It's scary to think that the holes in the safety net just got a whoole lot bigger.
The spare key is in the bird cage.
Scary stuff. The noise would drive me crazy! Seems like it's only a matter of time. I'd take that lease to the management when you've had enough.
I wonder if they would like to give you another apartment in the complex, maybe a bigger one at the same rent FOREVER and pay to move you as well? Packing included of course.
Do you miss her?
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