“It is folly to punish your neighbor by fire when you live next door.”
– Publilius Syrus
Those of you who remember this little fiend, will be happy to know that he has departed for grimmer and more diabolic realms. Alternatively, you will be saddened to know that he has been replaced with something far, far worse:
Our new upstairs neighbors.
Not only do they fight, constantly, at the top of their lungs, specifically at ridiculous hours of the the night, but they are also completely incapable of walking. No, no. They stomp. Which makes our ceiling shake. And they throw parties with loud friends in which they, as far as we can tell, practice riverdancing. Or dropping bowling balls.
The other night, when we were watching a movie, we heard the door above us slam and moments later the light fixture started rattling around.
“Ah good,” J. said, “Lord and Lady Stompington are home.”
Obviously all this PBS watching is starting to rub off on him!
Small Dog Syndrome 
This is the precise reason I was forced to return my glorious treadmill to the store and opt for a gym membership. Apparently WE were the stompingtons. :p
Which is why I bought a bike! I will not do to the downstairs neighbors what has been done to us!
People seldom understand how they sound when they walk. I can forgive that. It’s the fighting and other loud activities that are beyond reasonable when living in apartments. There is a la-la-la mentality that their lives stay within the four walls of there apartments.
I won’t tell you the tales of being the single person living amongst the loud and enthusiastic newly married in a 4-plex south of campus. They came and went while I stayed.
Apartment living is not for the feint of heart. Sigh.