Wrath

My last post, and Jo’s comment on it, gave me an idea. There are seven deadly sins, according to the bible and wikipedia, and seven days in the week. Coincidence? I think not. And although there are definite favorites and such each person comes across more often, I think we can all relate to the seven in one way or another. After all, all good things in life are either illegal, immoral or fattening.

Then yesterday, as if I wasn’t quite sure if this was a good idea or not and the universe wanted me to get the point already, the topic for my first post came like a brick flying out of the sky to hit me on the head and say: duh. And such was the beginning of a series of seven short posts about my personal take on each sin. I know I should have started this yesterday, but that’s what you get for going into I’m-running-myself-crazy-because-it’s-the-last-week-before-exams – Mode. Here goes.

Wrath (Latin, ira)

Wrath may be described as inordinate and uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger. These feelings can manifest as vehement denial of the truth, impatience, the desire to seek revenge and generally wishing to do evil or harm to others.

Sunday night I got tired quite early and was really looking forward to my bed around 11 o’clock. I snuggled up in the covers, happily, for about ten minutes. Then I heard some loud, rapidly changing music. As I live right next to a main street, I though it was just another prick in a car waiting at a red light. But then it didn’t go away. And voices from up above came to join the noise. My upstairs neighbour was having a get-together with some friends, how lovely. As I heard one of them blaring an address into her phone, I thought they would leave soon. She did, the others didn’t. I decided to stick it out a while, because I’m cowardly and lazy like that. They started making jokes about neighbours who could come to complain (no one did) and if they should just give them money to leave. So I thought: yeah, they’d take me real seriously if I went out on my balcony in my Pj’s to talk to them now.

I then opted for plan B: earplugs. Since they put pressure on my ear I couldn’t sleep very well with them either and woke up every now and then, checking if the noise was still there. Thump, thump – techno with extra bass, thank you very much. That’s also how I noticed when it was finally over – at 4 a.m. By then I was too exhausted to think straight, but you don’t have to think to get pissed (actually, I think it’s rather counter-productive). My alarm went off at eight a.m., and thus the plotting of a revenge commenced after just four hours of sleep. It wasn’t really hard to come up with – she kept me awake, and now it’s my turn. As the saying goes: don’t get mad, get even.

8h45, I’m done washing up and getting dressed, I go upstairs. Ring once – nothing moves. Ring again, a little more persistent this time – there’s rummaging. A short peroxided girl peeks out, black left-over make up bags under her eyes, in skimpy shorts. I say, politely and nicely: hello! I’m your neighbour from downstairs! Would you mind keeping to the rules of the house next time you have guests? Because it’s not really a pleasure to start the working week on a Monday anyway, even without being held awake by music until 4 am. I mean – I wouldn’t have minded if you talk outside ’till the wee hours. But maybe keep the rest to room volume? Thank you!

She said you’re welcome, but while sneering, and then crawled back in her cave. I don’t think she meant it. But anyway, I stood up for myself and reached my goal: to wake her up and maybe prevent her from doing that again. That might be considered passive aggressive, but that kind of music makes you aggressive, and I was too damn tired to do it actively. Besides, my aim is for us all to be blind and toothless someday, as the good book says. I feel so much better now.

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