The secret life of elevators (they have their ups and downs)

When I moved into my apartment building a year and a half ago I had a hard time falling sleeping at night and I would often just lie in bed listening to my new atmosphere. The building has poured concrete floors and walls and I can’t hear my neighbors at all, but I could hear the building’s elevator make a muffled banging sound as it traveled up and down, which it seemed to do at all hours. Over time I started to recognize and then anticipate the pattern of the movement’s sound. I would rap the knuckles of my left hand on the cement wall behind my head, mimicking it. Tap tap tap tap, pause. Tap tap pause. The sound was soothing somehow, and the rough texture and hardness of the wall made me feel grounded. The elevator had a major repair a couple of months ago that took over a week and it no longer bangs. I have continued to tap my knuckles on the wall behind my head at night though. There’s a spot where the paint has begun to bubble a bit and it makes a crisper sound and has a pleasing, slightly pillowy feel. My knuckles hit it and then I move my hand to the left of the spot and the sound and feel is hard again. I’m not making this motion out of habit or without consciousness—I do it intentionally. What I mean is I don’t find or catch myself doing it—I do it on purpose. And I do it every night, many times. This is a story with no plot. I have been sleeping slightly better.