This is my One Complaint

Despite what the rest of this post might convey, Phil and I do love Santa Cruz. We love Westcliff, we adore Asian Rose (the yummiest Sri Lankan food), and we can't get enough of the monthly antique fair. BUT, we apparently moved to the noisyest cross-street in all of California. The funny thing is, when we go outside, the noise stops, or, it seems to. We hear drilling, drum circles, Semi trucks revving their macho engines, and people going through heroine withdrawals ALL AT ONCE. Every Night. Yet, in the mornings, we timidly exit our abode and find...nothing. It's all cleared out by morning. Phil is convinced that there are two very small but very powerful speakers attached to our windows pointing in. These speakers are activated every night by sensors that can tell when we're tired. Our yawning triggers the speakers and they blast heroine addiction noises into our home. Freakin EVERY NIGHT. I have learned to sleep through it, but find that my dreams are increasingly staged in the 1970's. It must be the drum circles.