Some days

Some days I’m thankful I have to edit from 11pm to 7am.

Like when I come home to reburn a CD that didn’t work, and I discover that the girl upstairs from me, who is constantly yelling at me to be quiet, is having sex in a manner that I fear will cause the ceiling to collapse.

And, no, this has nothing at all to do with the fact that I’m not getting any.

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