The 200 pound woman upstairs is doing step up areobics in front of her TV on my time over my head! The pictures on my walls are shaking like a minor earthquake has struck. The dishes in my cupboards are tinging tinging tinging tinging. For a person such as myself, maybe a little OCD-ish, which means I cannot do repetitive anything unless its my own head doing it. Get it? It's like chinese torture of a faucet dripping onto a cement floor inside a dark prison cell, omg enough. Sooo, me being a very non confrontational person, I live with these pounding sounds for another week, then I become confrontational. Well a bit anyway. My dog and my cat got a drift of my total confrontational verbage before I decided to take the lavalator, my word for the elevator to 2nd floor, apt. 205 and knock gently. Sometimes we have to show others how to be gentle. You might want to remember I said that as this paragraph mo-seys onward and downward. The woman stopped her stomping and answered the door graciously. I told her I truly wished for her to be able to exersize but that my walls were disturbingly shaking. And as I type she is at it again!! Fluck! My chandelier is doing a jig. So back to her door. She apologized and it was quiet for a few days and then stomp stomp stomp drip drip drip. I thought we had a little more time before the chinese really took over. This isnt fair! I suddenly do not care if the woman is fat forever....
Then I remembered a sign I saw for classes for concealed weapons. You see folks, not only is China taking over, Wisconsin has passed a new law allowing concealed weapons. Oh yah, can't you just see this 8 x 10 glossy a comin soon. Can you believe I even considered it. Oh yeh I did and in my imagination only I am walking to the lavalator in my high heal sandals, concealed weapon tucked in my pants front, struttin with a new found gun confidence up to fat ladies door. I knock, she opens, I smile and pull it from my pants (good thing I am female or this would be a bad story ending) the weapon that is, and point it at her foot! She screams and jumps. I say, "Hold still crammit!" Then I told her to hand over the fluckin aerobic CD and the stepper NOW! She ran and dragged it to me. I of course had a bandana around my face and a bag over my head with two holes cut in it to see! Oh, I also had my dollie next to me to carry the stepper away to the garbage room downstairs. I told her I wouldnt tie her fat ass up if she would count to 5000 before making any moves. That is if she could count that high. Me, I took that aerobic stairway to hell to the trash and went home, removed the head bag and relaxed. I also did away with the dollie so there was no trail for the authorities. Heck, I had a reason and isnt that why we will now be able to have a concealed weapon. Worked for me. And now she can eat whatever she wants. She probably thanked me for scaring the bee gee bees outta her. I know I feel much better now. 
