The neighbors above us seem to have problems deciding exactly where they want their furniture. Ever since the weekend, they've been moving what sounds like giant, colicky dragons with their nails scraping the floor and constant bursts of gas emitting from either end. This sound is particularly startling at 2am, when you awaken suddenly in your sleep and wonder why the circus is storing its animals above your head. While I understand proper furniture placement is crucial to good karma, it doesn't help much if it causes the people below you to have minor neurological damage that mimics Tourette's syndrome every time you see said neighbors in the hall.
Of course, I have to wonder what the neighbors below us think every time the cats run like recently emancipated banshees through the apartment. When I saw them downstairs yesterday, I'm pretty sure that word she said to me wasn't hello.