Friday Night

Friday night means that the women in the flat below mine are playing traumatic music at high volume.

At the moment, we’re all listening to Britney Spears.

I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve this.


Oh, good grief. We’re now on Mariah Carey. It’s like that, y’all.

Music hasn’t been this bad since I stopped working in the kitchens with Virgin Radio on all day. They had a playlist of about four, and coincidentally, both of the songs that have just been played were on it.


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