Just Five More Months
I only have five months left in Halifax. How incredible is that?! Given I’ve lived here almost all my adult life, just about everybody has come to associate me to this little seaport city. But that, of course, is on the verge of changing.
As a result, I find myself looking at the place differently. No, not with regrets. Not even nostalgia. Just differently. Like, “This is my 22nd but last autumn in Halifax.” So, yesterday I took advantage of the gorgeous weather on one of my rare days off to take these pictures of fall in Nova Scotia, including some in my soon-to-be-former neighbourhood.
Yes, only five more months. But the short time that remains does raise a dilemma as far as Dr. Snake Oil Salesman, the asshole who’s unfortunately my upstairs neighbour. Clearly, the landlord’s office never sent him a notice as I thought it would a few months back. And now, in addition to the music, he has taken to walking like a fucking elephant. What is it about some people who think that just because they’re not wearing shoes, they can stomp as heavily as they want while walking on a hardwood floor? Honestly! There are times when I can actually feel the vibrations!
So the dilemma is: grin and bear it, it’s only five more months; or, it’s five more months, so I have nothing to lose by declaring all-out war so that, maybe, I can get a little bit of peace in that time. The former would be the rational thing to do, but the latter might feel so damn good! What’s more, since the super and the landlord know I’m moving, they’re probably not going to be inclined to do anything for me …unless, of course, they choose to do something for the sake of the next tenant. But I doubt it. That would be proactive, and they’re a 100-percent reactive bunch.
And just as I was typing that paragraph, the asshole just turned his damn music up. Pig fucker!