Dear Ladies,

I know that you are quite young and although I am really only a few years older than you, I probably seem ancient and haggard to your youthful and frequently intoxicated eyes.  Kids will do that to a person.  I know you are just starting to enjoy the freedom of not living in your parents’ homes and I appreciate that. I really do.  I suspect that you are gay and are either trying to hide this from the world or have not yet accepted it yourselves.  I don’t judge you for that. It’s none of my business. But to the one of you who pays rent: I don’t care if your girlfriend is a buddy or a lover, you should be making her pay rent.  She’s here more than you are! 

Since you are now officially “grown ups” and doing grown up things like sleeping off a hangover until noon every single day, it’s time we had a little heart to heart, adult to adult.  It’s time to start acting like adults.  You can’t call my daughter “Princess” and “Sweetheart” like you’re her little old auntie and then come home every night at 3am with 15 of your closest friends, pull into the driveway (which, FYI, is about 18 inches from my head when I’m lying in bed, which I usually am at 3am) with your music blasting, and stand there smoking, drinking, talking boisterously and swearing in your cute-ass little way at the guy you’re currently trying to bag and expect the other grownups living around you not to get a wee bit pissy. Especially when you do it multiple times a night.  Even after you’ve been told to shut the hell up.

I appreciate that you still think that smoking makes you look ultra cool, but I’m getting really sick of my house smelling like an ashtray for days after every time you have friends over.  You really can’t be so stupid as to think that if your friends stand in the back entry smoking that the smoke will not seep under the door (which has a 2 inch gap under it) into the main floor.   Although the fact that you couldn’t identify the air conditioner on the outside of the house does make certain implications about your respective IQs. 

I’m sure you believe that kids are, like, super cute!  But I’m telling you that I have just come through my son’s first year and it wasn’t all fun and games and snappy accessories.  It was crying and colic and leaking boobs and temper tantrums and having an audience every time I pee and my kids are really cute and fashionably dressed but I am so damn tired.  My son started sleeping through the night about a month ago and he is over a year old.  (FYI: That is about 7-9 months later than the “average” baby)  You can’t even begin to estimate how short my patience is for your insensitivity and lack of respect for your fellow tenants these days.  My husband is in a brutally intense program, I am living in a new city, I am overtired and exhausted from the stress of the past several months, and I swear to God if you wake me up in the middle of the night one more frickin’ time I am going to mess you up. 

Kiss, kiss!

Sincerely,
The Bag Who Lives Upstairs.