There are cat people and there are dog people. We are upstairs neighbor people.
About three years ago our friends needed a place to live while they looked for a house to buy. We were in the process of playing Musical Livingquarters and moving our bedrooms downstairs, so we invited them to take over the upstairs while they looked. We all thought it would take a few months, not a few years, but we're all very okay with the change of timeline.
You say "oh that's fine for you. You live in a tower."
I hate to disillusion you, but we don't actually live in a tower. It's a fairly average two story house that happens to have a kitchen on both floors. If we were Jewish, we could easily be kosher. Or we could have a vegetarian kitchen and a non-veg kitchen (read: Bacon Cookery). Or a macrobiotic kitchen and a microbiotic kitchen. The possibilities are endless.
But I digress.
We have friends who live in gigantic houses and say they still don't have enough room. More room is nice, but we like living in a big puppy pile. We like to be close to each other. If we had more space, we'd probably still all end up in the same room.
Our upstairs neighbors are the same way - or at least they're good fakers if they're not.
There is something great about sharing space. It's why people gather in town squares. With this many people living here, Trout Towers is its own town square. Come to think of it, as a computer consultant Chris IS the town square. Oh I slay me.
It is comforting having friends in the house. I know that if I'm eaten by wild dogs, someone will figure it out pretty quickly. There are always people around who have my back - simply by virtue of standing behind me. And you know those friends you never see because you're too busy doing laundry? Laundry day is when we see the most of our friends.
I understand that this isn't for everybody, but my recommendation is you build a yurt on your roof and ask some friends to move in. You may really like it.
For the record, I felt this way even before the Upstairs Neighbor left a chocolate oyster on my diningroom table on her way to work.