It started off comparatively peaceful. Downstairs were having a bit of a party and were in high spirits. I didn't mind it one bit. In fact it was a lovely change to hear people being nice to each other. Then the git upstairs kicked off at about half past nine. The screaming, shouting, chucking things around, banging and crashing went on intermittently until five to eleven, when all of a sudden it went quiet. At ten o'clock the people downstairs were at their window, laughing and joking, when the man upstairs bawled out 'shut up you foreign wanker', and it went completely quiet until the man upstairs started up again shortly afterwards.
I didn't go to bed until midnight. I couldn't settle down, fully expecting a further performance any minute. I slept badly and woke up with a headache. This is now the second time this week that I'm turning up to play feeling completely washed up. I've written to the tenants association telling them what happened. Ain't it miserable.
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