I Can Do What I Want

The other day I was sitting at this computer and letting my iTunes playlist entertain me while I did some tedious but necessary paperwork. I got thirsty. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of iced tea and I could still hear my music playing even though my office is in a bedroom at the front of the house. So I thought to myself, ‘self, that music’s kind of loud,’ and hurried back to turn it down. I stopped by the couch, though, as a sudden thought took me.
   I don’t live in an apartment any more. The music that I can hear in the kitchen doesn’t pass the walls of my rental house. I can be as loud as I damn well please.
   I have to admit I was a bit taken aback by this. For years now, far too many years, I’ve been an apartment dweller. I’ve had to consider what I do and when I do it very carefully, since I don’t want to be a bother to anyone else. I really do try to live the golden rule; if I wouldn’t want someone taking a shower at three in the morning then it’s not something I want to subject others to.
   But now… I live in a house. A detached, two-car garage house with solid walls and a tile roof and a thick front door. The closest neighbors are ten yards away, on the other side of a brick wall and past their own garage. The neighbors on the other side are twenty yards away, and over a fence.
   I can make lots and lots and lots and lots of noise now and I won’t be disturbing anyone. I can walk as heavily as I dare on my own floors , I can run the dishwasher at midnight, I can crank up Tom Jones as loud as I can stand it and no one is going to come knocking on my front door in a stained bathrobe to wag an admonishing finger at me.
   I’m free.
   Now… what can I do with my newfound liberty? Midnight smoothie party? Twenty-four hours of darts? Line dancing in the living room? Yodeling competition? Man, the sky’s the limit.