Art and I have lived in our apartment for over 2 years, and our upstairs neighbor has been there since we moved in. We immediately noticed that our upstairs neighbor is very heavy footed and we assumed it was a large man, only to discover it is an average sized girl not much bigger than me. For reasons beyond my comprehension, she has the inability to HOLD STILL and stomps all over every square inch of the floor above us mercilessly day and night, as if she has no furniture. One day my family was at my house visiting and my brother Kyle asked me, "Have you ever considered that there might be a baby elephant living upstairs?" It's seriously that bad. To accentuate our dislike with her noise making, she has a very creaky bed that translates her sexual activity through the ceiling into quite a racket in our bedroom when combined with her love-making vocalizations. She only runs her dishwasher AFTER bedtime, and listens to loud music when I'm trying to take my Sunday afternoon nap. As heavy footed and irritating as she is, we had taught ourselves to tolerate "The Stomper" who had exercised her upstairs dominion over us these past 2 years.
The past few weeks, The Stomper has taken her noise making to a whole new level with the addition of surround sound TV and loud music until at least 2 am every night. God forgive us, for Art and I have now declared our pure hatred for her. I am trying really hard to literally love my neighbors, but she crossed the line with me and the only remedy I can see fit is for one of us to move. Oh what I wouldn't give for a house of my own! To not share a wall with ANYONE. To not be able to hear my neighbor pee in the toilet above my head! If only we had any money saved up for a down payment. It would be cheaper to buy a 3 bedroom house than to rent a 2 bedroom apartment. Donations are always welcome. :)
New Year's Eve couples as Art's birthday at my house. Unfortunately he had to work through his birthday so he didn't get to do anything special. He turned 25 this year and is sprouting a few gray hairs that he blames entirely on me. As much as I want to strangle him sometimes, I have been thinking lately about reasons why I love him. I used to picture myself married to someone who came home from work in a suit every day, but I love that my husband comes home so dirty and sweaty that I can't even touch him, because it shows me how hard he is willing to work for our family. It makes me appreciate him more when he does wear a suit. He cleans up quite nicely if I say so myself. Happy Birthday Baby Cakes.
Art's Birthday 2007 - Sacramemto Train Museum
1 comments:
When Michael and I first got married we lived on the 3rd story of a 3 story apt complex. The guy below us asked us one day when we were coming down the stairs if my husband had a weight set and liked to work out late into the night. It took us a second before it dawned on us what he thought "weight lifting" was and we of course immediately felt bad and made a course of action that rectified the problem maybe you should tell her you can hear her "lifting weights"
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