Speculations About WTF My Upstairs Neighbor Could Possibly Be Doing// Michael Johnson // Thought Catalog
Hahahaha–heeeheheeheee. Hump day giggles. Pardon me, you bad neighbor.
It’s 11 o’clock, time for you for start dropping objects on the floor. Ever since you moved in above me, I’ve been listening to you through my ceiling — listening to you drop things and move things around. Based solely on the sounds you make, I’ve come up with some ideas about your hobbies and about you — tell me if I’m wrong here:
The room above my bedroom is the Dropping Room, correct? I only say this because sometimes you take a medicine ball and drop it repeatedly for about 5-8 minutes (any longer would be too long), at which point you take a container of crayons or possibly sand and drop that, too.
You know what, go ahead and drop the medicine ball once more. Nice. Okay, last time. Perfect.
Then for ten minutes you drag an industrial chain across the floor. Am I right so far? You just walk around the Dropping Room with a big chain? Classic.
This one I’m not so sure about, but I think around midnight you angrily disorganize your sizable collection of textbooks by tossing them in a pile in the corner (right above my head). Do it, man! Fuck those books. Go nuts.
Now let me guess: one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long day (besides break-dancing) is to find the two creakiest spots on the floor—yep, those two right there—and stand lifting your television up and down? Knew it. Boy, you really creak that shit out of that wood.
But wait—at 2:30 a.m. the real fun begins! Look, we all love a little late night feng shui. Who doesn’t? Like you, I rearrange my furniture all the time. Unlike you, though, my furniture doesn’t consist of irregularly-shaped sandstone formations and rum barrels. You crazy-ass hipster probably and your ironic furniture! How am I doing so far? Dead on, I’m sure.
I’m going to be honest here. I think you’re fucking crazy. More importantly, I think we need to get you a girl/boyfriend. Although… that might be tough considering your strict rule that everyone in your apartment (including your dog) wear cleats and drop Frisbee® discs. But don’t give up! When you finally find that special someone who will accept you and your many strange habits, just make sure you warn him/her that your vacuum cleaner and/or small shelf tends to fall over a lot in the living room, and that once a day you like to bounce on a broken trampoline. I’m just looking out for everyone’s safety.
So basically I’ve got you all mapped out. I’d love to meet you in person one day and violently roll around with you on the floor like you do sometimes in the afternoons. You’re clearly having way more fun up there dropping things than I am down here not dropping things, so why not?
Well, anyway, I’m going to get some sleep now by laying here completely still in abject protest. Goodnight! Don’t forget to wake me up in the morning.