“Loud Neighbors--Again”

After a few days of more unseasonable rain, we’ve finally got a sunny day here. I’m at the rose gardens in McKinley park, enjoying some shade and a comfortable breeze. I wasn’t the only one who thought coming here would be a good idea, either. Families stroll through the gardens, couples sit on the wooden benches with their arms draped around each others’ shoulders, and dog owners walk their dogs on the runners’ path. I’ll bet that really pisses off the runners.

I woke up this morning feeling pretty discombobulated; didn’t get a very good sleep last night. My neighbors threw a loud party again. About two dozen people started showing up after midnight. It was the same crowd as last week. I’d stepped out to have a cigarette, taking my phone with me and debating whether or not to call the cops. A group was out in the quad and they yelled ‘whuts up’ to me. I told them.

While I was on hold to repot them, the gal who lives there came down to speak to me. She’s young--early twenties. She told me how she’s already let everyone know not to invite any more people, and that they need to keep the volume down. I told her that’s great, but I’m still reporting her. She said how she wished I’d just gone to her and let her know they were being too loud. I told her that I don’t play games. I said to her that she needed to learn that you don’t start a party after midnight and that my calling the cops was the best way. She said she wished things could have been different. I said, “so do I.”

The thing is, I remember crazy parties. I’ve been to a few. Or maybe more than a few. I don’t actually have a problem with parties. What I have a problem with is starting a big one after midnight. This was the second week in a row. The gal just moved in and she’s throwing weekly shindigs and that’s not cool. There are consequences to our actions. I’m not responsible for my neighbor’s behavior, she is. She’d probably insist that she has a right to throw a party, but I have a right to a quiet place late at night.

Anyway, the situation was dealt with and maybe they’ll knock that shit off. Maybe they won’t and we’ll have to go through this exercise again. My real problem is that I got so pissed about it last night that I couldn’t get to sleep even after they’d quieted down. Damn I hate the insomnia. I’ve gotta wag the dog a little, now; set my alarms and see if I can’t get my sleep schedule back to something more normal.

I’m remembering being younger, being crazy, thinking that no one else in the world mattered but me and what I was up to at any particular moment. I’m not so naive or forgetful as to not see the irony of being the asshole neighbor now. How ‘bout that? That’s the journey of growing up, waking up, realizing that there are other people in the world and that we don’t get to do whatever the hell we feel like. It’s the journey of Recovery, too, because so many of us didn’t grow up. We walk into the rooms as children--whatever our actual age--and learn the things we would have learned just through normal life but didn’t because we were always loaded and stuck inside ourselves.

It doesn’t suck to have to be the asshole neighbor, either. And sitting here today, I don’t feel all that strongly about the incident. Maybe that’s because I’ve taken the time to work the program, share about it in this space. Or maybe it’s one of those ‘intuitively knowing how to handle situations that used to baffle us’ types of things. Ah, I’m not sure how much it matters really. It’s just one more bit of scenery on the journey.

Though I really wish I could have had this serenity I’m feeling now last night.