But it doesn't sound like it. A minute ago I got an earful of some bloke shouting "Ronnie! I love you!" I have no idea who Ronnie is, nor do I have any inclination to find out. But I could, just from looking at the TV. because judging by the duff duff-duff-duff duff duff that signals the end of EastEnders, that must be exactly where I will find Ronnie and the person who loves him/her.
Thats the great thing about neighbours (the real life versions, not the soap). You can't live with 'em... On the one side I've got a couple who seem to want to double the living accomodation in their cottage with an extension and even a cabin at the bottom of the garden.
On the other side of the fence next to me, I have someone who has clearly decided to make it her aim in life to faithfully follow every soap opera ever made. Even on a sunny Sunday afternoon, with the temperature in the early seventies and her windows wide open.
This afternoon alone I've endured the Emerdale, Coronation Street and EastEnders omnibus editions. I wouldn't mind if I was deaf.
I would tell her to get a life, but she's probably too wrapped up in the lives of fictional characters to hear me. I feel like I know them already, and it's only been an afternoon.
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