On the bus home yesterday, there was somebody (and I couldn’t pinpoint who) just reeking of mothballs. I don’t hate the smell, since it reminds me of my grandmother’s old apartment, but this was pungent.

Last night, some dumbass neighbour of mine decided to play their little bongo drums out on a balcony well after bedtime. I can sleep through the bus noises, and the recurring sirens, and the occasional airplane passing through, but good god . . .

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