The Walls Have Ears


I didn’t realize how LOUD I AM until I moved in with roommates.


My roommates are AWESOME. They’re very cool. And chill. And quiet. SO QUIET! I never EVER hear ANYTHING at ANY time of the day. They’re great! They’re WONDERFUL! No, the problem is me.


I’m afraid that I’m very loud.


Nothing prepares you for going from what is basically a home of your own to living with roommates overnight. The sharing of a bathroom with three other people is BOUND to result in at least one desperate moment when someone’s in the shower and you gotta go so you start emptying out the shoebox filled with your nail polish collection to poop in JUST IN CASE and don’t look at me like that, if you shared one bathroom with three people, I’m sure you’ve been there!


But simply being the kind of person who would even consider pooping in a box as a viable option, which in itself probably makes me a truly undesirable roommate (WHAT WOULD YOU DO THOUGH I MEAN REALLY), I’m afraid that I’m quite loud.


My hairdryer gives me pause. I can only imagine what they think my epilator is doing. And I know what you’re thinking and YES, I’m terrified my vibrators can be overheard in other rooms.


But it was the flu that I caught last week that made me reallllllly think about how LOUD I am.


Y’all — I have been coughing incessantly for seven days. SEVEN DAYS! I take a breath, I start to cough. I’m like a tragic French woman in a musical. And not just dainty, cute coughs, NO! These are deep, rattling, wet, croupy coughs. All day, all night. NON-FUCKING-STOP.


I don’t even have the CHOICE to be quiet. I can wear headphones every time I play music or watch TV, that’s a choice. I can be suuuuuper gentle shutting the microwave door when I make breakfast in the morning, and I can shuffle my Tarot cards on top of my duvet to muffle the sound (yes, that’s a thing that I do).


But I can’t stop coughing. I’m TRYING! I’m taking cough medicine, I don’t WANT to cough myself dizzy, but I don’t have a choice. I’m like, the literal Fantine of Bushwick. I’m diseased, and everyone knows it.


They can hear it through the walls.



image via pixabay


One response to “The Walls Have Ears”

  1. chelsea w Avatar
    chelsea w

    I’m so sorry I’m laughing because you’ve been sick, but the poop-box got me and it was over from there. When I lived in a dorm, besides freshman year (which is another story pshew), I actually was pretty psyched because I lived by myself and somehow ended up in a weird place of the building with no one living RIGHT beside of me. However, the room above me was the communal area or whatever that had a PIANO in it. I would wake up in the middle of the night to hear drunk people playing Piano Man. I heard people crying their eyes out (yes their EYES…get it ’cause the topic…) to a very dramatic piano playing of My Heart Will Go On. But the worst. The worst was this: a guy whose name I never learned because he apparently only came out at 4 in the morning would bust out with I Just Called To Say I Love You. However, instead of singing it as it should be, he would basically scream out, “I just called…to sayyy…FUCK YOU.” The literal worst part is it would get stuck in my head until the next time he would come to sing it. So as for loud “neighbors,” or roommates, I really hope yours don’t mind you and that they completely understand your sickness. OH yeah, the people played Down With The Sickness a lot too. Anyhow, this was a long ass comment when all I truly wanted to say was I hope you aren’t too bad sick and that you probably aren’t as loud as you think haha!

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