the noisy old fart from Hell

I read somewhere that there are at least 100 rats for every person in this country. I'm sure that's right; some of them even have four legs.

In a misplaced effort to save money, Haringey has decided to cut refuse collection to every two weeks. So there is garbage everywhere-and rats the size of BMWs running wherever there is a pile of garbage. And I've got one of the two-legged ones living upstairs.

We've all got horror stories about noisy, nasty, inconsiderate neighbors-and I have a few of my own (as you do). But the nasty old fart upstairs is a real piece of work.

This lifeform is from Somalia, or Ethiopia, or some country where women are treated worse than their sheep. In fact, this old guy never washes; he wears robes and a head thing that smell so bad, you know he's in the vicinity when he's two blocks away. When he is upwind, it's even worse. And-it's bad enough that he hammers and bangs things in the middle of the night-and plays what passes for music at top volume in the middle of the night-but I think he's got no marbles at all. He accused me last week of spying on him, making phone calls and writing letters about him, and stalking him. I was so amazed, all I could say was that I don't make a habit of stalking piles of shit. Now the noise and hammering are worse. Of course, I did tell him on Sunday (when he got in my face and accused me again) that he should go back to shagging sheep wherever he came from. That would have gone down badly if he had understood what I was saying. His English is only good enough to get him on benefits, I guess.

Haringey has an antisocial behavior team-and, allegedly, they investigate every accusation of antisocial behavior. It took me four hours on the phone (they certainly don't want anyone to be able to find them!) to get through to that department. I explained what happened, and I also told about the noise-all night, every night. Perhaps he's been watching too many vampire movies and sleeps during the day. So I have an appointment to make a formal complaint tomorrow.

I'm living in an area that is designated for disabled people-but disabled people who are able to look after themselves. I had no idea that the area isn't only for the physically disabled-I spoke with one of the neighbors who told me that there are a few nutcases there, too. Oh, joy.

Along with my seemingly permanent sleep deprivation, I've had a few hiccups this week-and the week isn't even over yet!!! I get hospital transport, and I missed two appointments due to the hospital transport people screwing up in a big way. The car turned out to be an ambulance, and the ambulance showed up at the same time as my appointment. I was very annoyed-especially since my appointment was with Dr. Dimples. Now I don't know when I can get another appointment. Grrrr-incompetence is a pet peeve of mine.

I must be secretly Type A!!

There is a bit of good news, though: even with a new chest infection, I have been able to do some of the balance exercises I couldn't do without falling over. My bruises still have bruises, and my lumps and bumps still have lumps and bumps (I'm quite possibly permanently black and blue and lumpy and bumpy), but I can walk a bit better than I did before. I'm still working on getting off the stick-and I'll get there, or it won't be for lack of effort.

I learned from the hospital transport encounter that it's best to check, double check, and triple check everything myself. Sometimes people let you down-and it's worse when the people who let you down are the ones you don't expect to do so. I'm starting to doubt people's efficiency and competence. I feel like a policewoman!!