Dear boy who lives upstairs,

Hello, nice to meet you. I am that girl who occasionally hits the underside of your floor with a mop, that girl who has called security on you on numerous occasions, that girl who wishes to duck tape your buzzer... you know, the one who you keep awake every single night with your lovely drum and bass playlist.

I am writing to congratulate you on the excellent job you did keeping me awake last night. I greatly enjoyed experiencing what an insomniac goes through, as before I came to the University I had no idea how they must feel. It appears that yesterday evening you may have fallen asleep watching a DVD (I was very impressed with the tolerance of your ears. They can obviously withstand an extremely high volume for several hours). Now, I'm not sure if you're aware, but many DVDs return to the menu screen automatically after being watched right the way through.

Please correct me if I'm wrong, but were you watching the Pink Panther movie last night? Yes? Do you know how I knew that? Because at 4:30am I was listening to the theme tune for about the eight thousand and seventy fifth time, what with the theme tune being the background music on the menu screen.

Again I must applaud you on your annoyance technique because yes, you guessed it, not only did this little ditty keep me awake pretty much all night, but it also woke me up at 7:30am. This is fifteen minutes before the time I was meant to be getting up for a compelling law lecture, which I subsequently missed due to fatigue. You also seemed to have slipped a few notes to the on-campus security officers because they failed to do anything about the matter on all three occasions that I called them throughout the early hours of the morning.

I would come up and discuss this matter with you but I can feel my eyes closing as I'm writing. I suppose the message I am trying to convey is this: if you don't shut up within the next hour or so I am officially making every attempt possible to round up the rugby team and tell them that you said they're gay, before pointing them in the direction of your apartment.

Yours Sincerely,

Brooke