I’m being watched

Why doesn’t anyone know how to knock on a door properly? One light tap of the letterbox really isn’t going to wake me from my slumber. Now two knocks that shake the very foundation that my building stands on (and I live on the top floor) should just about do it. I got up dazed and confused, my hair a meer scribble on the top of my head. Our flats are being painted at the moment. I’m quite pleased that this time they actually decided to knock and ask us to open the windows / doors but that doesn’t change the fact that last week my front door had been painted shut and has a nice green stripe down the side that was hidden by the door frame.

I have all the windows open as I am sitting in my living room, while a man peers in at my life. Granted I could just move to another room but my computers are in here. I feel slightly violated as this stranger observes me through a window. I’m not really doing anything that exciting. Drawing ad writing. Still I don’t like to be watched. It makes me feel like I should be more entertaining. Dance monkey dance. I won’t move into another room though. Why should I change my daily routine just because someone is a few feet away from me watching and judging me; my baggy jeans and man shirt, my messed up bed hair, my every stroke of the keyboard. Paranoid? Probably.

Have some metal played ear bleedingly loud mwahaha. He seems a bit disgruntled now. I’m going to end up with my flat painted a disgusting colour now.

I have a few hours before I have to go to my day job. These precious few hours to do whatever the hell I want to and I want to sit around in my underwear and watch shitty youtube video’s and write shitty blog posts and draw shitty pictures. Damn it. I understand that the man probably doesn’t care but I am bound by the illusive rules of social etiquette… oh another one here to paint the door. Now I’m blocked in by voyeur painters. Violated on all sides. Bright green paint. I’m going to have to move now. I only have myself to blame. Melodramatic? Probably.

I shouldn’t have told Tom that they’re here. At least then I would have got some enjoyment out of them being here. Seeing their faces as Tom strode out of the bedroom naked.

/rant.

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