Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Apartment Living

No one my age should still be living in an apartment. The joys of communal living should be foisted on to only the very young because as an adult, you just hate making the compromises.

I hide from my neighbors. This is a well-known fact. But I met one of them last night. She came by and she very nicely asked if I could be quieter in the mornings. Of course, I said “sure”, and apologized, since I do get up just after God every day. Then I asked what it was—I was thinking that I let my alarm go off too long, or maybe the TV news was too loud; something along those lines. Nope. She said she was actually surprised how petite I was (ie weeble sized) because it sounded like a huge man was clomping around in the mornings lately. So, either I’ve been in a mood more than usual in the last couple of weeks, or she has mistaken my closet doors rolling back in forth for footsteps (as I have been trapped in clothing indecision more than normal).

Whatever.

Naturally, I don’t want to annoy my neighbors—not because I’m an inherently good person, but because I don’t want them stopping by for any reason. So, this morning, I found myself tip-toeing around my apartment. I’m gently closing the door to the bathroom. I’m worrying that my shower might be too loud.

Seriously? I’m in my late thirties. I get up before the sun. I work 24-7, and now I’m freakin tip-toeing around my apartment. How did I get here? This can’t possibly be my life.

Why couldn’t the complaint have been that my energetic sex life is keeping her awake at nights? You know, besides the obvious that dinosaurs roamed the earth the last time I had a date. I don’t hear anyone complaining about the acrobatics going on in 217 (p.s. glad to hear that one working out for you—you go with the morning sessions!).

How about, “The paparazzi are all over this place when you and Duchovny get together to work on your new projects. Could you guys stop collaborating on your next Oscar winning movie before 10?” I’m flexible. I’d be willing to meet with David earlier in the day.

How about, “wow, I didn’t know you were the most famous concert pianist in the world! Could you stop practicing after 11?” Sure, I also don’t do that, but I bet I could live with that one.

Nope, it’s me going about my normal daily activity that is annoying people.

So, now I’m tip-toeing for the rest of my life.

Shared walls = the destruction of the rest of my sanity.

Kate, absurdly tempted to start slamming doors.

(seriously, 217, it sounds like you're going to break something...)

7 comments:

Helen said...

Umm. Yeah. I think tip-toeing around your own apartment is insane. It isn't like you were doing something egregious to make this woman complain. Perhaps if it is really bothering her, she should just move. F her!

danielletbd said...

Great, now you have me second-guessing the townhouse. I mean, sure, I'm on the end so I only share walls with one neighbor, but still. If I could put a protective bubble around my house, I'd prefer that. No one can get in without my permission.

And also, like you said, it's not like you're throwing wild parties or anything; she's kind of rude for telling you to keep it down. Keep what down? I'd turn the TV UP next time... just out of spite.

Chloe said...

Tell your neighbor that if she wants quiet, she should buy a house. Or, at the very least she should rent an apartment on the top floor.

Kate, Dating in LA said...

Helen--
I know! It's so weird to actually have to be concerned about living my day to day life. Stereos and parties, I'd totally understand. But walking? ugh.

Kate, Dating in LA said...

danielletbd--

Oh, no! Townhouse is definintely a good thing. At least you only share one wall, and it's bound to be thicker than these are. Although a privacy bubble sounds good. ;)

Kate, Dating in LA said...

Chloe
LOL! I hope I don't encounter her again, at all. Although if the next complaint is about my snoring...

Blackberry Cinderella said...

I had my share of apartment neighbors from hell... starting with the obvious loud oversexed moaner, the weird looking pervert, the one that liked me and kept asking me out...
If you move to a house there are other things to consider, but shared walls no more is brilliant.
Chloe: I lived in the top floor, and had a downstairs pervert from hell that woke me up every morning with his sex noises...

Cool blog. I'm bookmarking it now!