I have a sneaking suspicion that my resolve is being tested. Seriously. And this test is pushing me… hard… to the brink. Like, I may snap. I may. It is that bad.
I am sick. And therefore, exhausted… drained… sniffly… snotty… and, in general, feeling pretty shit. Luckily, I have the day off.
Well… at this very moment I am enduring my third hour of pretty much non-stop drilling/jack-hammering. On a balcony reno gang-bang that involves fixing like 15 other balconies. Not mine – thankfully. But since we rent… this ridiculousness doesn’t even improve my property value.
This jack-hammering/construction has been going on now for about 1 month. It is pretty unbearable. In addition to that, our once lovely front-door parking spot – revered amongst the 300 other less lovely spots – is also one of the lucky few to be affected by parking lot construction. And so we’ve been banished to the depths of hell, as Rob likes to put it. Slightly melodramatic, but the melodrama feels appropriate in this case where the pile of cons is constantly mounting, and the pile of pros seems to be dwindling fast.
And so, it the midst of the chaotic noise pollution that feels to be suffocating me way worse than any sinus infection, I decided, “Well, I might as well have a shower.”
Everything feels better after a shower, right?
It’s true, it does. And so I pulled my snotty-nosed self into the shower and proceeded to decide that it was an excellent choice. Proud of myself, I noticed a teeny drip coming from the ‘new’ shower head.
Hmmm…. that looks pretty easy to fix. A simple twist aughta do it.
Not so. In fact, something about the fountain of water that subsequently sprayed all over the ceiling/every-freakin-square-inch-of-the-effing-bathroom tells me it wasn’t as ‘easy’ to fix as I had anticipated.
Here I am, left in what can only be called the most chaotic situation I’ve ever found myself – on the verge of uttering the words, “It can’t get any worse…”, fearful of what that could bring. Blaring DeVotchKas How It Ends to drown out the incessant drilling…
So fine. It’s gonna be like that. That’s fine. I’m sure it can get worse, and at this rate, I would be silly not to expect it to. BUT it doesn’t matter because I’ve already decided… it’s not going to break me.