An Open Letter to my Next Door Neighbours:

Hi, how’re you going? We haven’t really met officially have we?

I’m sorry I haven’t been more neighbourly - I’m not really the sort to chat on the doorstep or, you know, answer the door to knocking. I like my own space and, in return, I’m happy to give you yours.

But. We. Have. To. Talk. About. The. Power. Ballads.

More specifically we have to talk about the power ballads you have been playing lately. And loudly. I don’t know what they are called, I don’t know who they are by but I recognise them and I want to kill myself every time I come home to hear them reverberating through our shared wall.

Why are you doing this to me? Is this about last weekend? I’m sorry - I know, in hindsight, that having a piano in my house was a dangerous move when I'm all-too-likely to come home late and in the mood for The Entertainer and, yes, not everyone enjoys the musical stylings of Run DMC as much as I do but this is taking things too far.

I am already a relatively empowered woman. I do not need this in my life. I don’t know anything about you but I’m sure you don’t need this in your life. Nobody needs this in their life.

Please get some taste or at least a pair of good headphones.

I have a high-speed internet connection and I’m not afraid to download some hardcore pornography and play it… loudly.

Yours Faithfully.