Apartment Living.

I didn’t do any  actual web-posting for the weekend, updating my blog through my phone, and now I come back and things are different. Different colors mean different things on the stats page? Visitors versus views? Really, WordPress, are you trying to kill me?

My, how times have changed.

Which brings me to my next point. I cannot, in recent memory, think of a time when apartment buildings got many solicitors. Maybe I live inside of a bubble, but suffice it to say that – since I’ve been back in Chicago – I’ve rarely experienced such a thing. I can’t even remember, having been forced to sell, sell, sell! candy, raffle tickets, my soul, etc. as a child going to apartment complexes and running the gamut of the inhabitants there. It was my opinion, I guess – as it is now – that you shouldn’t waste your time with such things. The rejection of so many in such a vast space? Well, my little child heart just wouldn’t be able to take it!

Tonight, my doorbell rang. I’ve learned to ignore the doorbell when it rings, because the first month I lived here I answered it and some kid was standing there with a violin waiting for his teacher whom I obviously was not. The way I figure it, if someone is coming over, I’ll know about it beforehand. Planned visitors: the way to go.

So I was in the middle of my “I-got-three-hours-of-sleep-last-night” nap, and the doorbell rings. I was startled by it, but again did not answer, figuring it would have been a mistake. A minute later, my neighbor’s doorbell rings. And then I heard, “Hello?” from my neighbor. And then I heard, “Hi, my name is Stacy, and I work for a non-profit organiz…”

My neighbor: “Hello?”

Stacy: “Hi… and I was wondering if I could talk to you?”

Nothing from the neighbor.

Stacy, apparently undeterred, moves on to the next neighbor.

Neighbor 2: “Hello?”

Stacy: “Hi, my name is Stacy and I…”

Neighbor 2: “Not interested, thank you.”

Stacy goes on to neighbor 3.

NEIGHBOR 3 BUZZES HER IN. BEFORE SHE EVEN GETS HER INTRODUCTION GOING. WHAT WORLD IS THIS.

And then I hear this, in my hallway: “Hi, my name is Stacy and I work for a non-profit organization…”

Neighbor 3: “Oh, sorry. I thought you were pizza.”

But Stacy, literally and figuratively, has got her foot in the door and she’s not going anywhere! Tis the Christmas season, after all, and she’s got newspapers to sell or something!

So now my neighbor has a newspaper subscription. And some strange woman who has listened to Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down” too many times has seen the inside of the hallway.

… I need to go back to sleep. Too many changes for this girl today.

Have a good night, everyone.

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