The music again

Oh, friends, if you back check my blog; you'll find plenty of posts about music.

I hear it.  Do others?  Frustrating.

Last year, in particular, was very bad.  I could hear it playing every night, very low, but I could hear the bass notes.  Ron, being literally half deaf, could not.

We get so frustrated at people who think he has super hearing.  Unless I'm right in front of him, I have to shout at him just to be heard.  When I am depressed or hurting, I can't shout and he can't hear me.

When it comes to verifying the music, I can't go to Ron.

I'm on my own, relying on a malfunctioning brain.

About a week ago, it started again.  I only hear it at home, in my bedroom, at certain hours.  From my experience, when I'm hallucinating music, I hear it all over.

So, I am concluding it is not a hallucination.  Step one.

Step 2.  No one else seems to mind.  No one has called the police and said "Can you tell #2 to TURN IT OFF?" and sent out an officer.

So, am I unreasonable?  Last night as I lay awake in bed, hearing the bass notes, I remembered the comment from a month ago, someone saying I "had to expect to hear some music from the neighbors on a Friday night".

I seem to hear it constantly, in the bedroom.  Which has me thinking.  The neighbors are gone.  Did they turn on some music, in the house, when they left?  I may wait and see if it goes away when they come back.  I think they did this last time.

I could always try moving in the computer room (I have a pull-out), but I think I heard it there, last, time, too.

Now, on some level, I see it as a spiritual hassle.  Messing with my sleep always gets me upset, distracted, and exhausted.  It's pretty effective: keep me from working and ruin my witness.

I don't want that to happen.

Just now, Ron woke up, I told him my theory.  Now he wants to sleep in my bed tonight so he can see for himself.  If he can hear it.

I do know this, there are a million things worse than this: I recall the generator noise after Hurricane Ike.  Oh, that was a tremendous racket, like a lawnmower parked in my bedroom.  He did offer to run a cord to our house, which I thought was sweet.  We could have used it for charging cell phones, Ron's talking book machine, a light or a fan, etc (low-draw).  In fact, I lay in bed thinking of them all and thanking God it was only bass notes from someone's music.

I'm pretty sure it's the neighbors, out of town, left a radio on.  We could always take a walk tonight to find it.