Problems With My Apartment

A new feature on suddenlystruttin "Problems With My Apartment" is intended to be a forum for me to bitch, moan and lament the many faults of my apartment. You as the wonderful readers of suddenlystruttin should feel compelled to completely ignore this new feature or comment, love and above all else worship this new feature.

Problem #1: The dumb woman who lives with her grown son in the apartment behind mine. When I say, "dumb" I do not mean unintelligent I mean that she cannot speak. She's one-third the woman Helen Keller was and is fully annoying to me. I hate to sound like a real asshole [Really? -Ed.] but this person for far too long has scared the holy bejesus out of me. My landlord made no mention of my bedroom wall sharing a common wall with the rear aparment and definitely said nothing of the freakish mute/dumb old crone who lives in the rear apartment. My first night in the new apartment (May 1, if I recall) I was awoken at 3:20 in the fucking AM by some of the most terrifying and guttural noises ever managed by an "alleged" human vocal chord. Convinced that there was a monster of unknown origin lurking somewhere in the wall behind my bed; I, armed with a pitchfork and torch, stayed up the rests of the night fighting off slumber all for the sake of Vigilance Against Monsters. The next day I called my landlord:


Me:"Hey Anthony, is there a monster in this building?"
Landlord:"What are you talking about?"
Me:"Yeah, something was making awful sounds at around 3:30 in the morning, any ideas?"
Landlord:"Can you be a little more descriptive?"
Me:"Well, it sounded like an animal being tortured but more guttural."
Landlord:"It could be the mute in the back."
Me: "Excuse me? Did you say, 'mute in the back?'"
Landlord:"Yeah, a mute woman lives in the rear apartment with her adult son who helps her out."
Me: "Uh huh, yeah, so, you didn't want to tell me that my bedroom shares a wall with the rear apartment's bedroom, and that in said bedroom lurks a monstrously voiced woman?"
Landlord:"I guess it slipped my mind."
Me:"Thanks, well, I gotta go."

Since that fateful conversation the lexical cacophony has not ceased nor even diminished and most mornings between 3:30 and 6:30 I'm awakened by a fit of vomiting consonants, grunts and cries. It'd be so much funnier if this person suffered from Tourettes but as is, the humor has evaporated from this situation and I only grow more tired, annoyed and above all else bothered by her early morning fits.