My Neighbor is A Drummer

I woke up this morning to a heart attack: my own. Or a panic attack. Or whatever it was, I felt like I was about to die. My heart pounding out of my chest, anxiety spiking, the bedroom door seemed to be rattling, my ears were throbbing, and I was hyperventilating. So I did the first thing that came to mind: jumped out of bed, ran to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and figured out — wait a minute — the bedroom door is rattling! And my ears are pounding! Which can only mean one thing: my neighbor is drunk again. You think there’s no connection? My neighbor is a drummer. That’s what my heart attack was : drums. The deep, rhythmic, bass-heavy blare of drums through drywall at 4:00 AM. PG