Got a call from the management. Mr. Downstairs was at the office. I don't know if he finally went, voluntarily, or if the management threatened him to come. At least he was there. We made an appointment for us to be moving around up here while the management listens downstairs. If there is a problem, LET'S GET IT FIXED! But I am not going to not walk in my own apartment just because the idiot downstairs has a chip on his shoulder or whatever. And as for the baby with bionic ears...
1 comment:
dear me
hang in there
it is a crucible of character perhaps
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