To those of you who are just tuning in now, I used to have the loudest neighbours in the history of the universe. They would come home at all hours and blast their music and be super drunk. They dedicated all of Tuesday afternoon to shouting at their video game systems, and at each other. As well, the couple that occasionally shared the room above me had no interest in discretion at all.
I’m pleased to report that the noisy boys who used to live above me have left. They wrapped up finals and called it quits.
So the apartment above me spent several weeks empty and blessedly silent. It was great. I could go to sleep at any hour, no matter which day of the week it was, and without the risk of being woken up by shouting, shrieking or squeaking.
However, things have changed and definitely not for the better.
We have a new roommate, who, from what I’ve gathered, is single and living on his own in the two-bedroom apartment. At first glance, he seemed like a perfectly normal and respectable young man. With short, dark hair, moderate height and no apparent vehicle, I kind of assumed he’d be chill and keep silently to himself.
This is not that case.
I’ve been woken up several times since he, who I mentally call Spike, moved in a couple of weeks ago. He never makes noise during the day; I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s sleeping. But at 2 a.m., when the rest of the world is quietly sleeping or at least keeping to themselves, Spike strikes. Not only does he crash into every piece of furniture in his apartment, he seems to crash into them with a saw.
Yes, a saw. Spike, from what I can tell by angrily staring at my bedroom ceiling in the dark when I can’t sleep thanks to the ruckus, is an avid carpenter. And his greatest joy is shaping building materials in the middle of the night. And he has no concern for those he may be keeping awake with his antics, namely me (and my roommate Chelsea, who could probably sleep through the fire alarm).
I like to spend my awake time imagining that Spike is building dollhouses, or maybe even a boat, like Gibbs on NCIS. That would be cool. If he was donating those dollhouses to charities or maybe was honouring a dead parent with the coolest boat ever, I could forgive Spike for his rowdiness if that was the case. But I think the truth is that I’m stuck with yet another brutal, loud neighbour and in for yet another great year of listening to all kinds of things I don’t want to hear.
It’s time to start planning how to drive Spike out of this building, and out of my sleepless nights. Any suggestions?
Tonaya Marr is an unnaturally light sleeper and is getting a cold because of her neighbour problem. She greatly misses Neil, the elderly man who used to live above her and never made a sound. Neil, if you’re reading this, please come back. You can e-mail me at tonaya.m...@gmail.com or send me a tweet @TonayaMarr.