A letter to the residents who live below me.

Dear bottom neighbors,

I’m sorry I had the impulse to impress my wife and finish “building” a cheap IKEA bookshelf on a Saturday night. We really needed some extra space to store some books, games, and decorations. I’m pretty sure it was an emergency, even though we were fine for the past few months with our previous arrangement.

I grew up with an older brother, so he was always helping my dad build/fix things, so I never really cared to use my hands to build things. I’m married now though. I think 100% of dads are handy, and I always thought you just naturally got those dad powers, including old man strength, but it seems like I will have to actually learn those skills.

There is a chance you could have been sleeping. There is also a chance you could have been having a nice, romantic evening. I’m sorry. There was the voice in my head that banging a hammer multiple times would disturb you, but I couldn’t help my need to finish that bookshelf. In case you were wondering, it turned out amazing. We actually have extra space now to store more items we don’t need. My wife is really happy now.

You banged the ceiling with whatever object to display your annoyance and anger. To my credit, I did stop. In case you were wondering if I decided to wait the next day, I did not. I actually ended up bringing it out to the parking garage, so I wouldn’t disturb anyone else. Another tenant at the apartment actually gave me a smile and a chuckle.

I feel like I should walk down and give my apology in person, but I decided I’m just going to write this post instead. Let’s just avoid the confrontation. I’ll try not to do something stupid again for at least another week. We are in the same boat right? I don’t know what you do to make your downstairs neighbors hate you. It’s all a part of us choosing to live in these apartments. Please don’t hate me. I feel like we can be friends, even besties with testies. Whoever y’all are, I can definitely see us growing old together and laughing about when you disliked me. We can take turns carpooling out future kids to after school sports programs.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that we were meant to be the people that lived above you. I think it turned out okay.