An open letter to the neighbor across the street with the boom box playing at top volume in the windowsill

Dear neighbor across the street with the boom box playing at top volume in the windowsill:

I admit -- I was a little annoyed when you woke me up at 9:00 this morning. I was up late, you see, and figured I'd sleep in so I could be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to do some research for my two interviews tomorrow, complete another edit test for a potential employer and work on The Bedroom Blog. It's a busy day for me, or at least, it was supposed to be.

It wasn't what you were playing that was so disturbing, but the volume. Nas? Great. NWA? Love it. I was lying in bed, simultaneously hating you and shaking my rump, torn about whether I wanted to, how do the kids say? Bust a move? Or bury my head under the pillow. I opted for the later and then gave up and put the coffee on.

Now, neighbor across the street with the boom box playing at top volume in the windowsill, it's three hours later and you're still at it. And there was a very dark period in the middle where you subjected me to both J. Lo and Usher. That is particularly unforgivable.

And now we moved onto The Fugees portion of the morning. The Fugees are fine, I like The Fugees, but neighbor across the street with the boom box playing at top volume in the windowsill? Your CD skips. Like, a lot. Maybe you can still enjoy the music with the CD skipping, but I'm afraid I cannot.

In conclusion, neighbor across the street with the boom box playing at top volume in the windowsill, turn that shit off before I unleash some top-volume death metal on your ass.

Love,
Jess