Dogs, or: why I can't get any damn sleep

Every weekday morning for the past two or three weeks, I've been awakened at 7:30 by a rhythmic thump thump thump coming from the ceiling above my bed. That's when my upstairs neighbors get up to go to work and their big stupid dog starts thwapping the floor with its big stupid tail.

The vile beast always thwaps just loud enough and long enough to wake me up, but never long enough for me to be justified in, say, banging on the ceiling or walking upstairs and yelling at people. It probably wouldn't even bother most people, but I'm a very light sleeper and once I'm awake I have a lot of trouble getting back to sleep, especially in the morning, so when that damn dog and his tail wake me up at 7:30, I'm doomed to lie there for the next hour and a half in a frustrating state where I'm too sleepy to drag myself out of bed but too awake to actually go back to sleep.

Back when I was a strapping young lad in high school, I could operate just fine on two or three hours of sleep per night for weeks at a time, but these days I'm old and cranky and if I don't get at least seven hours, I can't think straight all day. I'm lucky enough to have a job with flexible hours, so I can adjust my schedule to allow me to go in late in the morning and stay up later at night, but this damn dog and his thwapping tail have upset the delicate balance and ruined my sleep schedule.

Have I mentioned I hate dogs?