...to the people on the floor directly above me:
Hi! I'm your downstairs neighbor. It's nice to meet you.
Now, I know it's a Friday night and all, and I've had my fair share of nights spent drunkenly singing Michelle Branch with my roommates, but...
...you have been singing this song, on repeat, for the PAST. FOUR. HOURS. I am SO NOT EVEN KIDDING.
Don't get me wrong, I like that song. Or at least I liked it the first 3,420 times I heard it. But if I have to hear how you're falling to pieeeeeceeesssss one more time, I won't be happy, and I will show up on your doorstep and give you this look:
That's right, you'll get the one eyebrow-raised Nanny Glare. And I'm not afraid to use it.
Edited to add: After I posted this, things got quiet upstairs. I can only assume my upstairs neighbors somehow saw my picture of The Nanny Glare. Which: RAWK. I've still got it.