Dear Ceiling, Hang In There

This past semester I lived in an apartment complex on the bottom floor. The girls who lived above me were a group of highly-motivated individuals who were deeply concerned about their levels of physical fitness. For this reason, they each pitched in to buy an exercise program set of DVDs called “Insanity.” I’m a big fan of working out and everything, and I completely admire their determination; however, my roommates and I found their exercise regimen to be a bit problematic. Their floor (our ceiling) isn’t the sturdiest thing ever built. When this whole group of girls simultaneously jumped, stomped, power kicked, etc. to the beat of the rockin’ music and breathless voice of the guy on the video, we experienced quite the racket below.

Every day, we stood with fear in our hearts as we gazed up at our pulsing ceiling, watching it flex an inch or two with each beat of the music. Our mini chandelier shook noisily, threatening to crash to the floor at any moment due to excessive rattling. We thought once a day would be sufficient treatment, but as we know, students have crazy schedules that don’t always coincide, meaning we got to endure a shaky apartment, two, often three times a day.

No problem though. I’ll just close the door to my room and hide, right? No! They stomped so hard, our door rattled! My roommate said, “Julie, I think the devil’s trying to get into our room.” Sometimes they would have long days but would still try to squeeze in their workout at the end of the day, so they would begin at 12:30 at night when we’re all in bed. It was a calming lullaby that always helped us drift off to sleep.

Just when we thought they were finished, their roommates decided to spice things up a bit, and would begin clogging! Just in case you were wondering, metal colliding with tile makes for very good sound resonation underneath, especially in the middle of the night.

I visit taught one of the girls upstairs. When I went up there last time, we had a wonderful conversation. She was a lovely girl. Before we left, I couldn’t help it. I kindly inquired how the exercise program is going.

“Great!” she replied enthusiastically, “It’s a two month program and we just finished our first month!”

I tried to keep my eyes from bulging out of my head, and my smile plastered to my face when I said, “Oh…great…good for you!” When really, I was crying, “NOOOO!! We have another whole month of this madness?!”

It really gives new meaning to why they call that program “Insanity.” I think it refers to how it drives the neighbors underneath.