Over several beefeater gin & tonics, I've been trying to decide if I wanted a website. I felt I needed to imprint myself on the www. To make sure that if someone needed my services, they could find me. However, a website with my resume and work schedule seemed useless. My good friend Little Miss Bossy interjected recently that, "Maybe you just want a blog." And I thought, "She might be right." I was nervous though: What would I write about? Who would read it? Is it pertinent to the world as a whole? Maybe a little too lofty, but I didn't want to add to the mess of useless blogs out there. I also am not an avid blog reader, but that might change.
Then I realized that it didn't matter. A blog would be a great medium for my family ("Hi Mom!") and friends ("Hi Little Miss Bossy!") to keep track of where I am, what I'm doing, and what's going on around me. I work as an opera stage manager, and I'm never in the same place for more than a couple months or even a few weeks. Something too serious like a work website wasn't what I needed. I wanted something casual and fun. And then it dawned on me that I even had the perfect opening blog...
Over the last two weeks I've been constantly bothered by my inconsiderate upstairs neighbor. He recently moved in and luckily he brought with him a treadmill. You should know that my apartment complex has a lovely gym, which has been recently renovated with new cardio machines, weight machines, free weights, flat screen TVs, and even new flooring. It's much nicer than most 24 Hour Fitnesses you see. A little noise from a neighbor in an apartment complex is expected. We're all living on top of each other, and noise is a given, regardless if it is welcome. However, when someone of not-so-slight stature is running on a treadmill in the apartment above you, something has to be done. My walls creek, my ceiling fan shakes, and the boom-boom-boom for 30 - 40 minutes is just unbearable.
My biggest question is what kind of idiot thinks it's ok to have a treadmill in a 3rd story apartment? Really? After waking up at 6:30 AM to my new alarm, I had had enough. I went to the leasing office to complain. Linda assured me that they would contact him but could not guarantee how he would react. I couldn't care less about his "reaction," I wanted my inconsiderate neighbor to stop shaking my entire apartment every day trying to diminish his cankles.
So I went back to my apartment unsure that anything would be done to rectify this absurd situation. The worst part is I am leaving my apartment for the summer very soon, and I knew that if I didn't do something about this now that when I returned in September, I'd be starting all over again. However, after the weekend passed the boom-boom-boom ceased. I thought they must have contacted him. Two full days had gone by, and I wasn't cringing on my couch straining to hear Lea Michele sing about her broken heart on GLEE.
My undisturbed bliss was quickly squashed the following day. Again I complained to the lovely Linda in the leasing office. She said he had promised to start using the gym, and she also asked me if I had flipped his breakers to his apartment shutting off his power (our electrical breakers are outside our apartments). I assured Linda that I wasn't that rude, but it was clear that I wasn't the only person being annoyed by Mr. Treadmill's exercising techniques.
I was beginning to think that nothing was ever going to stop this elephant from shaking my apartment. However, today was the day. I had to sign my lease renewal (one of a thousand things on my check list before I leave for Glimmerglass), and I met our actual Apartment Manager, Roberta. I didn't mention to Roberta about Mr. Treadmill during my lease signing because he had taken another 2 day hiatus.
But at 4:30 pm my walls began to vibrate, and I marched right to the office and asked for Roberta. When I informed her of the situation she said, "He said that he would start using the gym." Clearly she was abreast of the situation. She asked if she could come to my apartment and listen for herself. I was thrilled and led the way. When we were at the door to my apartment (not even inside), she said she could hear it and was so sorry for my inconvenience and that this would stop now. She immediately went upstairs and knocked on his door.
I decided to take Oscar for a walk and get out of the vicinity for a little while. I got a phone call 20 minutes later from Roberta. Mr. Treadmill promised to stop and he was being moved to a ground floor apartment. That's right. He's moving! So by the time I get back from Sunny Camp Glimmerglass, Mr. Treadmill will be rockin' to Richard Simmons somewhere else.
VICTORY!
Then I realized that it didn't matter. A blog would be a great medium for my family ("Hi Mom!") and friends ("Hi Little Miss Bossy!") to keep track of where I am, what I'm doing, and what's going on around me. I work as an opera stage manager, and I'm never in the same place for more than a couple months or even a few weeks. Something too serious like a work website wasn't what I needed. I wanted something casual and fun. And then it dawned on me that I even had the perfect opening blog...
Over the last two weeks I've been constantly bothered by my inconsiderate upstairs neighbor. He recently moved in and luckily he brought with him a treadmill. You should know that my apartment complex has a lovely gym, which has been recently renovated with new cardio machines, weight machines, free weights, flat screen TVs, and even new flooring. It's much nicer than most 24 Hour Fitnesses you see. A little noise from a neighbor in an apartment complex is expected. We're all living on top of each other, and noise is a given, regardless if it is welcome. However, when someone of not-so-slight stature is running on a treadmill in the apartment above you, something has to be done. My walls creek, my ceiling fan shakes, and the boom-boom-boom for 30 - 40 minutes is just unbearable.
My biggest question is what kind of idiot thinks it's ok to have a treadmill in a 3rd story apartment? Really? After waking up at 6:30 AM to my new alarm, I had had enough. I went to the leasing office to complain. Linda assured me that they would contact him but could not guarantee how he would react. I couldn't care less about his "reaction," I wanted my inconsiderate neighbor to stop shaking my entire apartment every day trying to diminish his cankles.
So I went back to my apartment unsure that anything would be done to rectify this absurd situation. The worst part is I am leaving my apartment for the summer very soon, and I knew that if I didn't do something about this now that when I returned in September, I'd be starting all over again. However, after the weekend passed the boom-boom-boom ceased. I thought they must have contacted him. Two full days had gone by, and I wasn't cringing on my couch straining to hear Lea Michele sing about her broken heart on GLEE.
My undisturbed bliss was quickly squashed the following day. Again I complained to the lovely Linda in the leasing office. She said he had promised to start using the gym, and she also asked me if I had flipped his breakers to his apartment shutting off his power (our electrical breakers are outside our apartments). I assured Linda that I wasn't that rude, but it was clear that I wasn't the only person being annoyed by Mr. Treadmill's exercising techniques.
I was beginning to think that nothing was ever going to stop this elephant from shaking my apartment. However, today was the day. I had to sign my lease renewal (one of a thousand things on my check list before I leave for Glimmerglass), and I met our actual Apartment Manager, Roberta. I didn't mention to Roberta about Mr. Treadmill during my lease signing because he had taken another 2 day hiatus.
But at 4:30 pm my walls began to vibrate, and I marched right to the office and asked for Roberta. When I informed her of the situation she said, "He said that he would start using the gym." Clearly she was abreast of the situation. She asked if she could come to my apartment and listen for herself. I was thrilled and led the way. When we were at the door to my apartment (not even inside), she said she could hear it and was so sorry for my inconvenience and that this would stop now. She immediately went upstairs and knocked on his door.
I decided to take Oscar for a walk and get out of the vicinity for a little while. I got a phone call 20 minutes later from Roberta. Mr. Treadmill promised to stop and he was being moved to a ground floor apartment. That's right. He's moving! So by the time I get back from Sunny Camp Glimmerglass, Mr. Treadmill will be rockin' to Richard Simmons somewhere else.
VICTORY!
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