We’re movin’ on up

It’s good to know we’re moving up in the world. Yesterday my neighbor rang my doorbell to let me know that a package came to her flat for me. In the course of our conversation, she told me that the delivery man was good enough to urinate in our shared entryway. Lovely. Sure enough, when I left the building later in the day, a wee rivulet of pee was meandering along the concrete. I tried to be philosophical about it. After all, not three years ago, in a different part of Fife, we lived in a ground-floor flat that was immediately adjacent to a pub (rather than across the street from one). In that location we were blessed with soccer balls bounced against our windows, drunken brawls in front of the kids’ window, vomit on the steps, etc. I won’t even go into the dodgy car dealership in the basement, the Indian restaurant above us, the arsonist next door.. So life here, from our second-story vantage point, is much improved. I can tolerate the piss of a desperate delivery guy with a certain stoicism.



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