I have had a migraine all day. A migraine that hasn’t had anything make it better, not my computer glasses, not medication, not a nap in the dark. So I figured I’d take a hot bath and hope that helped. Well, it was helping and then my downstairs neighbor came flying upstairs and laid on the doorbell. It took me awhile to get out of the bath and into a robe and he’d gone by the time I got to the door. Now, I’m all shaky and nervous as to who could’ve rung my bell, when he comes back up. I’m damp, my hair is wet, and he says “are you having problems with your water here?” Now, I’ve taken a bath a million times before in this apartment and there’s never been any problems. I told him no, but that I was in the bath. And he has the audacity to say to me “are you sure its not overflowing?” yeah, jackass, its overflowing, and I’m not going to tell you. At any rate, he says he’s got a drip coming from his bathroom vent (at which point my internal monologue says–“bathroom vent? we don’t have a bathroom vent, why does he have a bathroom vent?” So, really, I’m figuring that the pipes between my apartment and his must have an issue. He was going to call the apartment manager and I’m hoping that fixing things doesn’t disrupt too much because, at least on this floor, there are no drop ceilings. My guess is that the pipes are connected (by virtue of the bathrooms being stacked) and there’s something going on between them that is no fault of either party. He left the situation by pretty much accusing me of being the drip’s cause. He actually told me that my pipes had to be where the problem is, and implied that my taking a bath makes it my fault. Yes, jackass, I’d love to ruin your bathroom, so I drilled through my tub and down into your pipes so that you’d have a drip. Gah!