I feel like I'm in a surreal movie where the phone is constantly ringing. Doesn't that happen in Mulholland Drive? I think so. Anyway . . . it's not our phone. It's a phone either above our apartment or the in the one across the hall. The phone has been ringing nonstop since 10:30am. It's now almost 12:00. I hope a neighbor isn't dead. We've had a neighbor die before. Ozzie. I should write about him sometime because he was a good man. But, I don't know the neighbors above or across from me. I don't think they're normally here at this time. But, somebody is insistant. And what will happen when the neighbor picks up the phone? I know not and I don't know if I want to know.
Maybe it's somebody's alarm clock set to go off like a phone. Do they make those? How annoying if they do. And it's like I'm Elaine in Seinfeld if that's the case for that happened to her and drove her slightly batty. It wasn't hard to drive Elaine batty, but . . . it was one of those episodes.
Someday the phone will be answered. Hopefully, it'll turn into a steady din. If I go batty, well . . . what's new, pussycat?