Won't you be... my neighbor

So this morning I find the following note shoved under my door:

Here is a transcript:

Quiana-

I do not have a working bathroom. It is due to plumbing problems.

I'm so sorry to bother you however, I need a terribly bothersome favor.

Simply put: I need to use your bathroom today. I will bring over my own t.p. some cleaner + towel + soap and leave clean & tidy. What else can one do?

I cannot speak to the manager until 10 or 11 am. The have no free apartments in the building.

The rest I cut off as it included her name, phone number, and apt. #.

However, I didn't even find this note until 11:30am due to a sudden and inexplicable breathing inability that I developed last night. The result of this is that I slept in my office chair- the sleep of someone who pounded far more than the recommended dose of NyQuil- till 11am.

You may remember crazy neighbor from my previous posts. And when she told me to guard my virtue, and that she wasn't the vomiter, and that people were breaking into her apartment to steal small items of no monetary value, simply to fuck with her.

So yea, I did not call her, because, uhm, she's completely crazy.

Then that afternoon my phone rang and it was her. She explained that her toilet is fixed but very very filthy. And could I please come by her apartment tonight when I get off work?

Uhm, no.

So I think that the only solution to this problem is to sleep in my car until my lease runs out.