My F*cking Apartment

Let me preface this blog by saying I am wearing neon orange air traffic control strength earplugs as I type away.

I woke up this morning to 90's electronic rock blaring through the wall my headboard lies against, at 8am, on a Saturday. It's important to note that it is 90's electronic rock because it is the same creepy beat over and over again. No lyrics. No break between songs. Just a continuous string of cacophonous crap pounding through my bedroom for about an hour. I want to bang on the wall and go, "HEY! How 'bout some Tone Loc?! I'd be down for some LLCoolJ, TLC, or Salt n' Peppa if you insist on the 90's but PLEASE put down your glow sitcks!!" When that stopped, my downstairs neighbor, who has the patio in the courtyard of our apartment, started playing with her dog. When I say, "courtyard," I want you to understand that means the area where every sound is has a deafening echo that seeps into each unit whether your windows are open or not. Each of the ground floor apartments has a 10 foot by 10 foot AstroTurf fenced in patio and whatever they choose to do on that patio reverberates through the courtyard for all 4 stories of our apartment building to share. My downstairs neighbor has two gears: playing with her dog, defined as her continuously saying, "GO GIT IT! GO GIT IT!" in a high pitched baby voice while the dog barks, OR her and her boyfriend screaming at the top of their lungs about how much they hate each other while pacing in and out of the apartment, slamming the sliding glass door. At this point, there is unity amongst my neighbors. We all creep over to our windows facing the courtyard and look down at the train wreck that is the 1st floor relationship, with a shared look of, "Here they go again!"

For the past 3 months, my elevator has decided it does not stop on the 2nd or 3rd floor. I happen to live on the 2nd floor so this is an unfortunate turn of events. I got used to using the elevator to go to the 4th floor and then walking down two flights of stairs. There isn't any staircase from the lobby to the apartments so you can't just conveniently take the stairs at your leisure. You have to take the elevator to another floor, then take the stairs. In these 3 months, they have renovated the elevator with new paneling and faux hardwood flooring. It looks absolutely GORGEOUS as it continues to sail past the floors where have of it's tenants live. One day, I accidentally found a loop hole. If you hit the first floor button just as the elevator passes the first floor, it will stop at the second floor!!! The "trick" spread like wildfire! I even had a guy SHOW ME MY OWN TRICK the other day. I proudly said, "Yeah, I invented that." I instantly earned his respect. It was a good day.

The upside is that I have a flippin' amazing room mate who has become a close friend, I own the bedroom furniture I've always wanted and, ya know, I have my own bathroom, so it could be worse.

And in a few years, when I'm sitting, wrapped in a silk robe at my house in the hills, in a chaise on the patio by my infinity pool, I'll miss the high-pitched shrieks of, "GO GIT IT! GO GIT IT!" and the incessant booming of a 90's rave pumping through the wall. I'll feel sad and pout my Chanel glossed lips when my glass elevator stops at the correct floor.

Nope. No, I won't. But I might have less to write about so, today, let's count it as a "win."