nothing is funny at 7 am

Pretty much the worst way to start a morning is with a terrified scream.

Yesterday, in the cleaning and dolling up of the apartment, I pinned the bedroom curtain back so new tenants could see the lovely windows (they are usually closed to keep out prying drunken eyes), so when I woke up this morning, the first things I saw were two men on the roof, about three feet from my face. They were loudly discussing (over the neighbour's air conditioner) how to keep people from climbing over the fence; I believe they are from the guy who owns the building next to us, who has heard from Ruth about our problems and decided to fix them by draping the fence in barbed wire, and decided the best thing to do to tenants who have already had a nasty scare this week is to do this at seven in the morning. I was pretty mad, and as usual, they are lucky that Sean was here to talk me down. I was sorely tempted to call the police, as I had been told to do. I have very little sense of humour when woken up like that.

I'm going to miss several things about this apartment, especially now that we've powercleaned and prettified it, but the general public's assumption that our windows are soundproof and our roof is a highway is not one of them.

On the good news front, two guys came to see the place last night, and while the first one was cautiously optimistic, the second is almost definitely going to take it. He seems very much like some other guys I know, whose main requirements in an apartment are walls, a ceiling, a floor, and a plug for their TV and Xbox, and he didn't sound interested in shopping around. He also doesn't care if we paint over the border in the living room, which is great, because I don't want to.

We're also discovering new and awesome things about our new place as we discuss it - Sean, for example, knew that the door in the kitchen is not in fact a pantry, but a second door to the outside world, so we have two options for getting furniture up. Choice is good.

Cannot wait to move.