One of my favourite evenings of the week is Wednesday. At nine o'clock, I get a late dinner rustled up and put it on a TV tray ready for Desperate Housewives at 10pm.

But I'm having a bit of a problem focusing on it these days because of an annoying echo coming from the flat next door.

My neighbours are a couple of Goths who seem to have little consideration about how loudly they listen to their television set. They are obviously big fans of the programme too because at 9.30pm, just as I'm putting the finishing touches to my TV dinner, the bell rings next door and I hear a flood of other Goths come in and settle down loudly.

Then, ten minutes later, they switch on their booming TV with Nicam and surround sound, or so it seems and, if I strain my ears (but not that much because the walls are so thin), I can pretty much hear them cracking open the cans and getting into the festive spirit.

Not only am I astonished that a gang of Goths would actually be fans of the frothy American TV series, but also that they'd treat it like a game of football they were sitting down to watch in rowdy spirits.

But what's worse than half hearing the conversation is that I can actually hear the sound of their TV. And because it's travelling over to my flat, I hear the lines on their TV about two seconds after they have been delivered on mine.

So Bree will say something ridiculous in the middle of a divorce argument with her husband like: "Now I think it's time for pancakes", and I will hear it like an echo once again from their TV and then, after another second, hear their raucous laughter reverberating through the walls and windows.

It is infuriating and now that I've tuned into the echo, I can't enjoy one line of the programme without hearing it ringing irritatingly in my ears. My most pleasurable TV moment in the week has now become a great source of tension.

But what do I do? Do I go round for a face-off with the Goths and tell them not to laugh so loud, to turn down their TV and to not enjoy themselves as much? Or do I hold my hands up in surrender and take my TV into my bedroom for this all-important hour?

I'm seriously considering getting a loan for a major sound-proof operation on my blasted new flat.