Amateur Construction Hour

He's plotting his revenge

My poor baby kittenface getting tortured. He got his revenge on my iPad cord.

Sunday’s Sangria afternoon turned out to be a raging success with an overabundance of delicious food. My shrimp and stuffed mushrooms were a hit, but there was also gungho pizza, a chunky and garlicky gazpacho, spiced chick peas, salad, cheese and crusty bread, cheese stuffed dates wrapped in bacon, and bacon soaked in maple syrup and baked. We had mango and ordered poptarts from Jenny Lou’s by delivery because two of the girls had never eaten them before, and the rest of us decided that that was a travesty. We watched a torrential downpour from the safety and comfort of a cool, spacious 21st floor apartment. Lovely.

This morning I was woken rudely up by amateur construction hour, which apparently starts at 6:30 am. About maybe 2-3 months ago I complained quite a bit about two weeks of constant noise from our idiot neighbors at all sorts of retarded hours, and how I could just tell they were doing it all wrong. Then it blissfully went away and I forgot about it. Well, they’re back at it, unfortunately. I spent two hours trying to drown out noise ineffectually with a pillow, and went to work all baggy-eyed and grumpy (not to mention, on my way, some crazy woman sideswiped me with her bike handle, leaving a big bruise on my arm). When I walked out of my room, Ginny was sitting in the living room glowering about how much he hated China.

I came home after work today and was sitting in my room when I heard a faint knock at my door. Went outside to see Ginny puzzled, paused mid workout, while two middle aged Chinese people were talking at him in rapid fire pace in the doorway. “Do you have any idea what they’re saying to me?” he asked. After getting them to repeat it, it turns out that they our our neighbors who-share-a-wall from the next building over, and they wanted to take a look at our window nook room so they can figure out how to fix their room. I let them come upstairs and take a look because really I had no idea what they were saying besides “neighbor” “fix it” and “window upstairs”

OK, crazy people, wake us up stupid o’clock in the morning with your incessant and poorly conducted amateur construction and then ask to come tour our apartment at random hours of the night. Next time I hear the hammering and drilling and abuse of power tools I will know exactly whose face I should hate. You, little man and quiet hand flapping wife, I will be hating and wishing horrible things upon you.

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