There’s a chance – quite a strong one – that some of our sleep could be home to some strange and disturbing dreams.
Not because of any pre-bed cheese ingestion.
More to do with the fact that the chief noise maker of noisy next door has just sat out on the back door step with his mate smoking the strongest smelling spliffs known to man.
And, according to Carole, having choking fits in the process.
We were just sitting in the front room, chilling, when we became aware of a smell of pot. Not a casual whiff. But a strong, almost chewable smell as if one of us was actually smoking it.
I mean, we have to investigate. But we also had to shut all the windows and push the back door shut because… geez. But, not moments before, we’d hung out a damp duvet having washed the cat-bile off of it. So that damp duvet is now absorbing all the smells on offer.
I don’t understand it either because the smokers generally don’t seem to think that there’s any smell to be had. Like they’re just being cheeky little scamps, smoking the naughty stuff and no-one will know what they’re up to. And yet… we’re off our tits in the front room, feeling even more chilled out than before and we’re not even smoking anything.
We think that mother noisy neighbour is currently away, so chief noisy neighbour is currently living his best life – impressing girls, cooking chips and getting high.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
For us, it might be a hallucinogenic duvet. So there’s that.