To the late 50's heavily accented man that I met this evening on the elevator in which i pressed the button for the 4th floor for you, the same man that had a large box truck full of new ikea bedroom furnishings. This elevator ride was informative as you excitedly described the Swedish engineering superiority that your precious cardboard boxes posses. And your poorly contained excitement to assemble them as soon as you got all of them upstairs was cut short by my arrival to the 3rd floor.
Had I not met you this evening I would have many reasons to assume an adult water buffalo has moved into the apartment above me. For the crashes and thumping are I can only imagine strikingly similar to a cloven hoofed beast forcing its way to the watering hole.
go the fuck to sleep.