There is no way to backdate entrys so far and I wanted to add in some things I had written on another journal site. Please forgive me if this post throws you off.

It's Over My Head :: Wednesday, November 7th, 2001

Even as I sit here in bed fully dressed, I ponder whether or not to brave the chilly air in the staircase tonight. For one reason, I hate cold. No, I really really hate the cold. And the other, I hate fucking footsteps. I hate hard pounding running jumping feet. Especially when these are the feet of those creatures upstairs. The ones I can identify as children on a patient day.

Notice I did not say night. Night is generally when I get impatient about things like children, feet, and the fact that I'm home in bed under a warm cuddly blanket. If I'm at home, it's definite that I have plans to relax. If I want noise, I might as well give in and go out to some tawdry bar. At least there, I won't run into children.
Not that I truly have a problem with children. It's just that when I'm tired I believe in that old adage. You know the one. Something about children and quiet. All right, I don't remember but I know I agree with it. And if I ever think of it, well I'll write it down for posterity.

Well, it's not true. This adage. But it should be.

At times like this, I almost want to pray.Instead I usually shout at the ceiling with no affect. Same difference I've found. Next, I think perhaps it will stop. I promise myself if it doesn't stop by ten...then..and only then will I go upstairs. It has to stop. The pounding, the thumping, the ball dribbling...

Don't children have to sleep too? It's not like they are some evil sleepless noisy out to drive you insane inhuman monsters sent to become my own personal nemesis? Or am I just kidding myself?

Perhaps, they're up there right now plotting against me. They've watched me for years now. They have my schedule down to a tee. Telepathically, they know I am tired so they up their activities just a notch. Just enough to annoy me. Just enough to keep me from being blissfully enthralled with a good book. But just enough to keep me from coming up the stairs.

These kids are good. They know their stuff. They have the proper equipment. Plus, they wear loud shoes.
Maybe I'm just a hopeless optimist. It's over my head anyhow. I'm just tired and want to sleep. I hear earplugs are an option. I wonder how viable they really are.