2002-01-21 || 10:44 a.m.

|| dragonlady landlady what the eff? ||

last night the landlady called.

she sounded troubled. or nervous. i could sense her on the other side of the wall: wall clock plaster dry wall wood dry wall plaster and her, sitting, phone held to landlady ear with dainty fingertips. 'um, i hate to ask this, but i am just going to come out and say it: is someone living with you?'

and i am terribly nervous. all kinds of wrongdoing is brewing in the head: the cat, the smoking, the pink paint stain on the carpet. 'no! no one's living here.' she hesitates and says, 'it's just that, well i'm sure you hear the sounds i make, but it's just that i've heard heavy footsteps. and snoring.' i think of meow meow racing up and down the hall, but feline mania does not heavy footsteps make. 'well, i had some friends over last friday. i've been sick all week. but no one's been staying over.' 'and no one has keys to the apartment?' 'no.' 'okay.' and she doesn't sound convinced. and i have no idea what it is she has been hearing. and i am feeling guilty for some reason, even though there are no heavy footsteps, there has been no transient snorers, and i am wondering if this is something i should be upset about, the landlady with her ear apparently perched to the other side of the wall, studying the sounds that make up me.

hm. operation turning up volume on stereo. operation watching the tele late into the night. operation talking on the phone until the wee hours, employing high pitched laughing, devising schemes to get the hell out because hmm. this is a bit creepy.

(aren't i allowed to snore if i feel like it? i'm paying a great deal to snore in my own apartment if i so please, right? sheee-ite.)

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