Apartment Livin'

Facebook newsfeed has popularized the term 'creeper.' I am an unashamed creeper, and I start one too many conversations with, "I saw on Facebook that..." Okay, yes, it's a little voyeuristic; however, I only creep only the people I care about... so, you're welcome.

Meanwhile, living in an apartment complex has forced me into a type of creeping that is not by choice: I pinky promise I don't care enough about my upstairs neighbor to creep on her. Unfortunately, I could give you a detailed account of when she does her laundry and how she wakes up to the song "If I Die Young" every morning. And right now she happens to have a hacking cough.

I can also tell you that she sometimes dog-sits for one of my downstairs neighbor's dogs who is roughly the size of a Shetland pony (wait a minute, am I the only one not part of the 'community' in my building?). Oh, and then there's the boyfriend... or possibly boyfriends. All I know is they fight quite a bit and, unfortunately for me, then they make up... and I hope you read into that: they "make up." Mazel to her for working things out, but I wish she could "work it out" less than twice a day and preferably when I'm not trying to sleep.

I've started sleeping with a broom next to my bed as it's the best tool to bang the ceiling with when things get... out of hand... in the midnight hours... or in the late afternoon... or early in the morning.

Yes, I love catching up on people's Facebook albums and seeing an occasional status or two. I feel like I can justify that as a healthy interest in my friends. My neighbor and I are not friends, though, and the whole headboard-banging-screaming-all-night-long is just a wee bit too intimate for me.

Maybe I should offer her some counseling sessions-- pro bono, of course-- to work on some more neighbor-friendly relationship management techniques.