We have theories about what our apartment’s walls are made of. The walls are extraordinarily thin and laughably soundproof, by which I mean not at all. Can old buildings be constructed of cardboard? Poor Emily’s room is located between the alley and the bathroom. Not only does she get to hear every flush and shower, but also she can hear whoever is in the alley so clearly that they might as well be in bed beside her. Maybe graham crackers—they could be structurally sound, right? Maybe cemented with marshmallows, which would partially explain the summer ant invasion. Our apartment may be a Hershey bar away from being a giant smore. From my windowless cell of a room, the toilet is thankfully muted, but sounds from the kitchen and living room are disturbingly audible. With Alex living on a slightly different schedule, it sometimes feels like we’re all in separate time zones.
Here are some quirks of our sideways weekday schedules:
Late-Night Chef: I can never pass up Goodfellas for the frozen pizza stuffed in the freezer, so I applaud Alex for skipping his beloved Pita Pit cuisine in favor of a meal at home. Did you know, though, that frying bacon can make an awfully loud sizzle? A sizzle so deafening that it interrupts my snooze fest. Sometimes I roll over and try to ignore it. Sometimes I use two pillows as over-sized earmuffs, but mostly I lie awake and curse those graham cracker walls. And then there’s the microwave. I never think much about the high-pitched tone that each button emits after being pressed, but at 2 a.m. in the morning, I find myself wondering if Alex is trying to cook a Hot Pocket or trying to guess a security code. So many beeps.
Unexpected Guest: I can fall asleep—or fall asleep again—when the light illuminates my room. Dark is better, but light’s OK. The loud conversation from a girl Alex has brought back for a post-midnight snack is not. He tries to be aware and sets a towel or blanket along the bottom of my door so that at least one of the four cracks isn’t streaming with light, but that could matter less. Even Emily in her alley/bathroom room heard what are usually just my kitchen/living room noises. Despite asking and stressing that I had class early and would really appreciate the quiet, the whispers quickly returned to the original volume. From approximately 1:48 to 3:17 a.m., Alex and his lady friend talked, and I was their hidden, unwilling audience. I learned she had a lab the next morning at 8 and after missing it earlier in the week, really really needed to go. I learned the name of her grandparents’ dog and that she thinks it’s cute when dogs have people names. Damn those walls. Shocker, but Loud Girl didn’t make her 8 o’clock. I like Alex’s latest girl better. She’s calmer and the only way I can tell she’s been there is that she places the toilet paper in a different spot than Emily and I do. Talk about subtle.
Surround Sound: How big is Alex’s TV? 46 inches. What kind of speakers does he have? Mackie felt 15. Whatever most of that means, in laymen terms it translates as big. Not to mention it’s all very “bro” equipment. Sometimes there’s so much music pumping that when I’m trying to fall asleep it’s like my bed is in the middle of a club on a Saturday night. Emily and I suspect that there are dozens of people inside his room dancing their asses off, but we only get to hear the thumping beat and catchy hook. Man, we never get invited to dance parties. Then there’s the three or four songs that he broadcasts on a loop, which interrupts Em’s peace more than mine. He’s playing it again, she’ll text me. Playing what? Why Seal’s “Kiss From A Rose,” of course. Other times, Alex’s enormous TV provides the sound effects of a war zone. Maybe it’s a game or a TV show, but it’s most definitely not a lullaby.
Now is when I do have to take some responsibility for our noise pollution. Emily and I are just as loud in our own way. We’ve discovered that instead of texting, calling or (gasp) getting up to go the other’s room, we can simply shout and have a conversation. Fingers crossed that next quarter our schedules align better and our walls don’t crumble.