Apartment People - Or People 'Meant to Be Apart."
Apartment people sitcoms never promised or even hinted at the increasing levels of human intimacy that would enter my life upon moving into my funky new apartment. Bunches of Friends dining and socialising are not what I refer to here. It seemed like a little slice of modern heaven with a dishwasher, until upstairs moved in. Ideas of urban heaven came crashing in like bombs from the sky. No, I hadn’t moved to a war zone, I refer now to the morning dump of my upstairs neighbours. Seriously? No more privacy, even in the loo? There was no episode of Friends to prepare me for this. I was prepared for passing strangers in the hallway, for sharing driveways and footpaths, even midnight parties and loud music, but the pipes behind my bedroom wall resound the rumblings of upstairs plumbing with a rush of just too much information. Perhaps I shouldn’t’ write about such things as toilet noises, but if it’s socially acceptable to build homes projecting the echo