So, I am now living in a ground floor unit of an apartment complex...which really isn't so bad, because I have a nice, big private fenced back yard, and it's a pretty cute place. HOWEVER, with that said, that brings up the subject of my neighbors.
Now, I've got 2 kids, so I've gotten really good over the past nine years at being able to tune out things that would drive a normal person insane. (Yes, I know that implies I'm not normal...I'm okay with that.) But, the point is, I'm really spectacular with being able to ignore stuff when I want. Which is good, because I guess it appears my upstairs neighbors are loud. I know this, because whenever anyone comes to visit, they're here for like two minutes before their eyes get large as saucers, and they stare at the ceiling with horrified fascination.
In actuality, I'm unsure of how many people live up there, exactly. I mean, I think it's an older couple, their teenage-ish daughter and HER 1-year old baby, and POSSIBLY the daughter's boyfriend. I'm not sure if he lives there, or he just is there all the time. At any rate, it's just a 2-bedroom place, so I think it's verging on clown college up there. I mean, seriously...if they could pack anymore bodies in, I'd be amazed.
Also, I think they may possibly have a bed in the living room. I mean, judging from some occasional "sounds" I manage to notice, that's what I'm presuming. But...yeah...CLASSY.
Oh, and that 1-year old baby? I think she is the spawn of Satan. The child does not sleep. And apparently, she also feels that the period from 9 pm until roughly 3-4 am is the optimal time to shriek bloody murder, run like a water buffalo across the ENTIRE apartment, and possibly occasionally either throw dishware or large human bodies against the ground above my head. I mean,don't get me wrong...I have kids. I understand that they can be loud. But...MINE ARE ASLEEP DURING THOSE HOURS! And they were when they were babies, too. They also never murdered small villages in the wee hours of the morning.
Also, everyone up there seems to have a sick fascination with showers. Like, seriously. I don't know what they're doing up there to get as dirty as they must be getting, because in my little experiment for this post today, I counted roughly 12 showers taking place. In one day. Twelve. Maybe the bed in the living room is part of a "movie set"? Otherwise, who the hell needs a dozen showers a day? The reason this matters to me is because when they shower, it dictates my water pressure. And occasionally, I'd like more than a trickle...thanks.
So, that is the scoop on my upstairs neighbors. On to some others....
Up until the last few days, the couple that lived on my right were a nice, elderly couple that I never heard, and very rarely saw. But, in this last week they moved. And in their place, I have now acquired a cracked out version of Stephen King, complete with jet-black mad scientist hair, and torn Pantera tank top, and his wife...fat Elvira. This is the initial impression I got of them as I mowed my backyard, and watched them watch me (a little too intently, I might add) through the crack in the fence.
If you don't hear from me in the next few days, they've tunneled through the wall and eaten me.