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My name is Liz. I need direction. I overuse commas. My house is a mess, my hair needs a trim and I have no marketable skills: It’s fun here, you’ll see!

Got a question, comment, proposal of marriage? Great! Email me at liz@theproductivecough.com

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Got a question, comment, proposal of marriage? Great! Email me at liz@theproductivecough.com

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April 30th, 2009

Won’t You Be Their Neighbor?

My neighbors: Sometimes they play Jimi Hendrix at 2.3 million decibels at 9:30 in the morning (today), and sometimes they yell down to a friend in the parking lot about what kind of gas they recently passed. Other times, they rig the laundry room so that we don’t have to put any coins in the dryer, but the washing machine doesn’t work. And other times, they loan us DVDs and give us strips of unfrozen Flav-or-Ice. They’re nice people. Nice, loud people. And living next to them provides a kind of life experience I never thought I’d get.

Last night, I was coming up the stairs with about 96 bags when I was stopped by my neighbor who was standing on her front stoop in her pajamas. “Hey! Liz, Liz, Liz!” (She talks very quickly.) “No need to worry, but did we tell you we had swine flu all weekend?”

“You sure didn’t,” I said, steadying myself against the railing.”Are you okay?”

“Oh! Well, we’re all better now. Luckily his step mom’s a nurse. So we got injections and Tamiflu and the whole thing so we’re all good. You’re not going to catch it or anything. But oh man- you didn’t know that? I mean we were like [unsettling, guttural honking sound] on the couch for days. You didn’t hear us?”

But this time, the bags I was carrying were beginning to leave deep red marks in my wrist flesh, so I tried to hurry it along by keeping things monosyllabic on my end. “Nope!”

“Oh gawwwwwwwd,” she groaned. Then she turned to the railingĀ  and showed me a Ziploc baggie filled with something brown that she had taped there. “Bacon!” she yelled. “You know? Bacon. Swine Flu. Swine Flu. Bacon. Right?”

“Sure!” I offered, trying to be as chipper as possible. What the hell was happening? Perhaps she’d been misinformed and had taped the bacon to her railing as a warning to pigs everywhere. Or was she using some kind of porcine witchery to keep flu germs away? Or Orthodox Jews?

“Phew! I’m glad that it’s over with!” She laughed a little.

“Me too! So glad you’re better. Get lots of rest!” I cried as I quickly fumbled with my door’s lock.

“Yeah! And don’t worry. You guys won’t catch anything from us.”

Unless Crazy is contagious, sure.

3 comments to Won’t You Be Their Neighbor?

  • I like that after a week of pictures of horrified people wearing face masks, the newspaper now informs us that this strand of Swine Flu is NOT EVEN AS BAD AS THE NORMAL FLU!

  • Lyn

    LOL…this made me actually miss living in an apartment where everyone thinks you want to know all of their business…OR when the neighbors across the hall slam their door so fast that you aren’t supposed to see the big screen tv that sits 4.5 feet away from their couch that you know they couldn’t POSSIBLY have afforded on their meager income. Like you care……

  • Liz

    Oh my god! Did that actually happen?!

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