my next book will be called "RULES OF PARKING SPOTS FOR JERKS."

There used to be this lady who lived beside me who really shouldn't have been living beside me. She fell all the time - like I'd be walking to my car, and hear this thump and a curse word, and go investigate, and she was on the ground beside her van because she was going to drive her garbage the 10 feet to the dumpster because it was too heavy, but she lost her balance on the sidewalk and fell over. This happened ALL THE TIME. I understand that people like to be independent, but if she almost died every time she took her garbage out, maybe it was time to rethink the living arrangement. Maybe somewhere with a garbage chute, where she could be on the first floor because the elevator in my building is EXTREMELY suspect.

Anyway, so she moved out, and I was glad! Not because I hated her or anything, but for two reasons: one, I like to imagine her moving to a glorious ocean-front condo with a nice, live-in care person and a garbage chute, and two, it meant I could let Charlie play his favourite game where he chases his leash around my beside table for hours and barks at it the whole time. I never let him play it because I worry the barking is annoying to anyone who can't see how completely adorable he is while he's chasing his own leash in circles.

Then last week I noticed a truck in her former parking spot, and I became very jealous and angry. Who is this new person parking in the closest spot? I asked myself furiously. I've been here longer than this new person! I should get the spot. (I think I have a complex about parking spots.)

Then a few days ago I noticed the empty balcony where her cat and flowers used to be had some office chairs and a star. Rats, I thought, new neighbours. Because neighbours are usually crappy and loud, and also it put a kibosh on Charlie's game.

Then for yesterday and the day before and today, I smelled pot every time I left, or arrived at, my apartment. And those same nights when I am trying to sleep I hear a laundry machine going on for ever. So I imagine my new neighbours to be people who don't understand the hierarchy of parking spots, who like to do laundry when they're high. Despite my blase attitude about pot-smokers in a previous post, I am irritated by it now, maybe mostly because of the parking spot.