Won't You Be My Neighbor?

It's no military secret that I am less than fond of my neighbors. I often feel as if the leasing process here has become more like a circus audition. I'm not above admitting that I'm a little quirky, but at least I don't fan out my dirty laundry over the entire complex. Thus, it is with great pleasure that I introduce you to my beloved neighbors.

Meet specimen # 1 from upstairs:

We'll call her The Med Student, since according to my landlord that is the career she is currently pursuing. Apparently too, this is supposed to make us kindred spirits, being that I am already in the medical field. Truth be told, I'm not so sure I buy into the whole song and dance, unless she sleeps with a medical textbook under her pillow and is learning to practice medicine through osmosis, in which case, it is my most sincere hope that I never encounter her practicing medicine at my hospital, because consequently I would be immediately impelled to resign. I am much more inclined to believe that she is working in the field of culinary arts what with all the noise that comes from the kitchen on a daily basis. There is never a day that I don't see her car in the parking lot or hear her herding a train of Wildebeast through her living room.

Meet specimen # 2 from downstairs:

We'll call her The Scream Machine, mostly due to the fact that this is what she does best, especially while engaging in what I like to call extra curricular activities, which run like clockwork between the usually silent hours of 2 and 3 AM. Ironically it seems that this trait just so happens to be genetic. The Scream Machine has a child whom I most affectionately refer to as The Siren. Like his/her mother, this child has an extraordinary lung capacity allowing him/her to cry at a maximum vocal potential for extended periods of time, mostly occuring after midnight.

Wanna move in yet?