8:00am, my alarm goes off. I reach over to turn it off and begin to get out of bed. I’ve always been so simple to awaken in the morning. I don’t recall the last time I hit my snooze button. My sheets are always thrown off and I am dressed in five minutes, not really sure why. I don’t need to be in a hurry; my work is not nine to five, just a get the job done. I can leave for the day when I need to. My day is brightened even more when greeted by our cat, as I wander through our hallway, though his only need in life right now seems to be food.
As I bend over to fill his little bowl, thanked with a little face rub on my hand, I hear a loud thud upon our ceiling. The apartment above seems to be awake as well. Fabulous; their day has begun. I know now that the pandemonium will not end for another twelve or more hours.
Children seem to know how to walk at their loudest proportion upon a carpeted floor. Their conversations cannot seem to be had without being shouted at towards each other. Music that is played at the loudest tone that is all about the base is also their favorite to be played all the livelong day. Thankfully they no longer have dogs, for they used to clean off their balcony, with no notice. Water rained upon ours, making us too nervous to touch anything.
During the day, I really do not mind. If you live above people, they can hear you below, even if you try so hard to be silent. But, perhaps, after 7 or 8 pm, you could reduce on your stampeding around for no reason. My guy also needs to be awake at an early hour and I annoy easily. I know you would like to continue with your fun and so on that you’re blasting about all day. You would like to continue stomping around from room to room or whatever it is you need to pound around above us for. But at 11pm, I do wish you would please tone it down a lot. Even if you tell us that your kids are practicing their gymnastics in a ten foot living room, no injury won’t be endued.
I mean, seriously, dude, I would like one day where there wasn’t 12 hours of thumping around. A few whacks or bumps we can handle. I know that you have kids. What you seem to produce is a never ending, headache producing hammering above us! I, myself, am not a quiet person, yet I would know how to walk in a more silent motion if people were to live below me. In fact, our previous residence, which was on the second floor, we received not one complaint, yet we have been here two months and it has been a never-ending pandemonium! So, I ask you to show some respect for your surroundings.
I can shut a cabinet without slamming it. I can walk across the floor without any person knowing when I am coming. I can even SLAM a door in a silent way. Yet, you seem unable to do any of these. I am even aware of what you guys are talking about at times. This makes me feel that I am back with my dad in Michigan, for I could hear his television 300 feet across his home in another room, with walls among us. So, if I can hear you guys talking, one floor down, with all the wood and padding that is between us, then you need to tone it down!
11:30pm I feel is approaching. Look who has joined us, my boyfriend, who went to bed a few hours ago, yet you seemed to have awakened him with your clobbering and bass music. He is not happy. He has not been feeling well all weekend, didn’t even go into work today. So, if he wants to be well rested tomorrow, he needs his shut eye. Yet, to have to hear the same continuous beating for almost twelve hours how will he be able to? What could you possibly feel the need to pound around that long for? Why does a person need to actually jump from one spot to another every minute of the day? What are you beating around up there for? Even my niece was not that rambunctious. This makes me want to go to my nearest pharmacy so that I can get your children some Risperidone, a medication I take to help with my anxiety, then slip it in some chocolate chip cookies and leave them at your door.
So, please; chill out and I’ll put my broom away.