I laid in bed with my eyes wide open, wanting to scream. It wasn't even 7am. I had been rudely awakened by banging sounds coming from directly above my bedroom. Why were the upstairs neighbors making so much noise at such an ungodly hour!? What on earth could they possibly be doing?? It sounded like they were climbing a ladder and dropping a bowling ball onto the floor - repeatedly - while a large dog gleefully pattered around the room.
The sound was so loud, it reverberated through my entire room. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what was making such incredible sounds.
At times I thought I was loosing my mind. They would rouse me from sleep. Sometimes, it wasn't even worth going to sleep until the noise died down.
I was so sleep deprived and desperate to fall asleep, I would lie in bed, with hot silent tears of frustration pouring down my face. Sometimes, I simply gave up and spent the night on the couch instead.
Every morning without fail, the first bowling ball dropped around 6am and stirred me from my sleep. I would whine and burrow further under the covers, only to be roused again moments later. I always resented being gipped from those last 1-2 precious hours of sleep.
One day, I decided to venture upstairs and politely remind these people that someone was living underneath them. My request was simple: that they refrain from making such a ruckus before the hours of 8am. I didn't think that was too much to ask.
After all, the last apartment building I lived in, in suburbia New Jersey, we were always extra careful not to make loud noises or blast our music. The one time we planned a party, we actually knocked on our neighbors doors to give them a heads up. It seemed like the polite thing to do, to be courteous of your neighbors.
It was around 11:40pm. I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed and ventured to the fifth floor. A young woman with dark hair opened the door, she looked at me accusingly. A little child crawled around at her feet. I asked what was making the noise, if they could possibly make less noise before 8am. She asserted that no, that was impossible, because parents started dropping kids off before work at 6am.
They were operating a daycare out of a residential building. The entire daycare was in the room directly above my bedroom!! I tried asking if there was anything they could do, considering I was trying to sleep. I wasn't asking for much, just some quiet between 11pm-7am.
Suddenly, they lost the ability to understand English. The woman who answered the door simply stared at me with a dumfounded expression. The elderly woman who appeared behind her gave me the same blank face.
My blood boiled. I would not be winning this battle. Defeated and helpless, I retreated back downstairs and resigned myself to mornings of endless banging and sleepless delirium.
The sound was so loud, it reverberated through my entire room. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what was making such incredible sounds.
This wasn't the first time. This was a daily occurrence.
At times I thought I was loosing my mind. They would rouse me from sleep. Sometimes, it wasn't even worth going to sleep until the noise died down.
I was so sleep deprived and desperate to fall asleep, I would lie in bed, with hot silent tears of frustration pouring down my face. Sometimes, I simply gave up and spent the night on the couch instead.
Every morning without fail, the first bowling ball dropped around 6am and stirred me from my sleep. I would whine and burrow further under the covers, only to be roused again moments later. I always resented being gipped from those last 1-2 precious hours of sleep.
One day, I decided to venture upstairs and politely remind these people that someone was living underneath them. My request was simple: that they refrain from making such a ruckus before the hours of 8am. I didn't think that was too much to ask.
After all, the last apartment building I lived in, in suburbia New Jersey, we were always extra careful not to make loud noises or blast our music. The one time we planned a party, we actually knocked on our neighbors doors to give them a heads up. It seemed like the polite thing to do, to be courteous of your neighbors.
It was around 11:40pm. I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed and ventured to the fifth floor. A young woman with dark hair opened the door, she looked at me accusingly. A little child crawled around at her feet. I asked what was making the noise, if they could possibly make less noise before 8am. She asserted that no, that was impossible, because parents started dropping kids off before work at 6am.
They were operating a daycare out of a residential building. The entire daycare was in the room directly above my bedroom!! I tried asking if there was anything they could do, considering I was trying to sleep. I wasn't asking for much, just some quiet between 11pm-7am.
Suddenly, they lost the ability to understand English. The woman who answered the door simply stared at me with a dumfounded expression. The elderly woman who appeared behind her gave me the same blank face.
My blood boiled. I would not be winning this battle. Defeated and helpless, I retreated back downstairs and resigned myself to mornings of endless banging and sleepless delirium.
Comments
Post a Comment