Sometimes I forget I live in a building with other people.

23 May

I’ll admit, I was spoiled by my last place. I had one of only two condos on the top floor of a building, so foot traffic past my door was almost non-existent. Especially because the first four years I lived there, my only neighbor was stationed in Spain. It was awesome.

I’ve since done an absolute reversal, moving onto the middle floor of a much larger (and much noisier) building. All because my condo fee was creeping up too high for my taste. Dumb Alison. I’d gladly pay twice the condo fee if I didn’t hear my neighbor stomping above me at all hours. (And by all hours, I specifically mean between 3:30-5:00am. And by neighbor, I mean you, Michael.)

Anyway… noise is not the point of this post. The point is that I developed some habits that aren’t serving me well in this new place. For example: I routinely forget that the hallway might actually have people in it. On more than one occasion I have walked to the garbage chute in pajamas and slippers.

Or  opened my door wearing only a t-shirt and underwear to pull in a drying umbrella. Whatever.

If people were a wee bit cooler, communal living could be a sort of throwback to college. Remember those days? Heading to the cafeteria in pajamas? Keeping your door open whenever you were home so people could just duck in to chat?

Except: no. This is DC and we’re all important professionals. Apparently we don’t like to see our neighbors in their jammies, and if we leave our doors cracked, we think we’re inviting the world to burgle us.

Well. I guess I know who won’t be getting a keg any time soon and inviting her neighbors over for a Blind Pig: this girl. Because two can play at this game, Grown-ups.

Let’s just see how you enjoy it.

I *LOVE* that this image came from my alma mater's career services website as a tip of what "not to do" when job seeking. Now you understand where I'm getting this. Sparty On!

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