Jealousy isn't something I struggle with often, but lately I've found myself envious of the girls who live in the apartment above mine. I wish I didn't feel the way I do, but this jealousy is often consuming. The girls upstairs are just like me, in some ways. We live in the same building, separated only by a flight of stairs. We shop at the same stores and we all frequent our local Starbucks. We take some of the same classes and we even share some mutual friends. We only live about 20 vertical feet apart, but despite these commonalities, sometimes, I wish I were them.

I'm not jealous of the way they look and I couldn't care any less about the cars they drive. The reason I'm so envious is because they have something I could only ever dream of having. They have a baby elephant. It sounds completely crazy, I know. Our building doesn't even allow pets, but the heavy and clumsy footsteps are unmistakeable. The constant thumping and thudding was initially irritating, but once my roommates and I determined the (most likely) adorable source, it was much more tolerable. Like I said, pets aren't allowed except for service animals, so I can only conclude that it's a therapy elephant. Still, I have to admit, I'm a little jealous.

If that weren't enough, they also have a bowling alley. At first, I didn't believe it considering that their room is surely the same size as mine. However, after a few weeks of living there, my roommates and I decided that the thunderous crashes coming from upstairs could only be produced by bowling. It made sense when we noticed that these sounds were continuing into the late hours of the night, because that's a pretty common time to go bowling. I can't help but feel envious as I'm doing homework or trying to nap. If only I were friends with them, maybe I could be bowling too, instead of living out my days doing quiet, normal-person things. Once, I knocked on their door to ask if I could join, but they acted as if they couldn't hear me knocking. I ended up driving to the library so that I could study without the constant clattering as a reminder of how monotonous my life is in comparison to my upstairs neighbors.

The most recent realization would push even the most content soul into a state of pure envy. Sometimes my roommates and I can hear music so loudly that we began to think that our friends upstairs had gotten the world's loudest speaker system installed. However, when even that explanation didn't quite suffice, we could only conclude that every now and then, famous musicians stop by for private living-room performances. I can't usually make out what kind of music it is, but it must be a really good time based on all the jumping around. Every now and then, we knock on the ceiling, hoping they'll yell down and invite us to come hang out, but they never do.

I sometimes find myself wondering how my life will ever compare to the girls upstairs, but due to their unwillingness to chat, I suppose I won't ever know their secrets. (Besides those I can hear through the ceiling, of course). To the girls who live above me, I admit: I am at times envious of the wild and vibrant lives you live, but I have one request. If you can't send down an invite, could you at least keep it down?