To the Sleep Deprived


“Thump! Thump!- Thuuuumpp, thump thump, thump, thumpthumkp!! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!”

And those are the incessant sounds that bellow at me from my bedroom ceiling, right before I’m sleeping, – EVERY SINGLE FREAKING NIGHT. So it leads me to wonder, loud bass from some house beat, or relentlessly long humping? Or jumping jacks???

I’ve thought multiple times to go straight upstairs and declare that their ruckus is of an intolerable volume and frequency, and must cease. But every time I think to do this, I flash back to when I first met them: two Muslim girls living together, seemingly quiet, about their own business, private people. And honestly, the loud bass house beat hypothesis is really not persuasive; it doesn’t sound anything like music. It sounds like fucking. But then I think, they’d never have such rudely loud sex. People like that don’t ‘bang.” And then I admonish myself for making the same presumptions on others, that I hate when others presume those ‘nice quiet prude little girl” traits about me.

Alas, I must find a way to tell them, in a non-intrusive, friendly neighbor who just wants to get to sleep so she’s not cranky in the morning. I was thinking a note instead,

“Dear neighbor,
Plz crank down the fucking volume.

Thnx, sleep deprived 2nd floor .”

Okay not exactly like that. But one of these days I’ll puck up the courage to tell them something along those lines.



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