music in my head

march, friday 12th

It has been one week since i arrived and the process of getting used to my new environment is not an easy task. As i worked through the task of setting a daily routine for myself, i discovered that the jazz music blasting through the walls from the neighbor's apartment wasn't a one-time thing like i wrongly thought last week but, to my surprise, a daily 6-to-7pm thing. In the spirit of being fair to my after-one-week-still-unknown neighbor, i will say that he appears to observe a week-end break and spares us the music for some 8-to-10pm or so movies on friday and saturday nights. And once again both movies are listened to full blast by my i-can't-wait-to-meet neighbour, the whole building and, of course, my humble self.
Yes, i thought of buying the indispensable earplugs and no, i still didn't buy them. I have to say to my defense that i pride myself in having a logical turn of mind, so i decided that one cannot resign oneself to one's fate without trying to change it to one's liking.
Therefore, i designed a scheme to present myself to the until-now-without-gender neighbor and, this is the most important part of the plan, ask for the noise reduction.
My plan, thoroughly thought through, i presented my person at the critical time in front of the noisy neighbor's door with some cake baked by myself the day before to ease ,1st,the uneasiness of the first encounter and, 2nd, the seriousness of my request, which was in reality nothing less than a demand.
I rang, knocked, banged but nothing. My faceless neighbour remained faceless, but the noise coming through the door became noisier after each ring, knock or bang. The cake eventually disappeared, though not like i devised it since i ended up eating it all up in frustration. I didn't write a single word that day and the following one, the fumes coming out of my ears preventing me from any rational thoughts. I still succeeded to gather enough thoughts to ask Miss C about the irritating neighbor. My mind wasn't clear enough to properly process the answer but i understood that the neighbour case once did bother her as well and after a few tries not unlike my failed one, she left them a note informing them of the most appropriate time for them to make their noises without being a disturbance to her which was 6 to 7pm on week days and 8 to 10pm on weekends, sunday not included since she makes a point of staying at home on sunday night for restorative purposes. I do clearly remember, though, that i stipulate the fact that living here now, even though they weren't of any disturbance to her they were becoming one to me. And if it is possible, i recall with more clarity her answer as she said "There's nothing i can do for you, sis." with a shrug of her shoulder; a sentence that i heard as "get a life, darling" if some translation was needed.
Strangely enough, the jazz-lover neighbor's music couldn't stay out of my head. On Wednesday i found myself waiting with impatience for the music to start, debating with myself about the reason for that sudden change. I came to the conclusion that if one cannot fight one's fate, one must embrace it, so the least that i could do was to include that daily hour of jazz in my daily routine and do the housework during that time.I guess that it wasn't enough, or so i realised the very next day when i entered a music shop quite naturally and hummed a melody to the salesman so he can help me find the name of the artist and the title of the song, or when i further continued my search on the internet looking for more artists and more music to listen to. I discovered a large variety of jazz music and created a list of artists whose music better suits my taste so i can buy some of their productions when some cash would come my way, if some cash ever comes my way.
For now, i don't really need money. All i need is some music in my head so i can travel to a whole new world.