There’s construction happening behind my house. Right now. at 6:03 in the evening on the Friday before a long weekend.
I understand deadlines.
I understand contracts need to be met.
What I don’t understand is why I need to put up with the incessant droning hum, and its accompanying rattle.
(Did I ever mention that this blog is supposed to be filled with positivity, unicorns, and glitter?)
It penetrates my brain, digging deeper and deeper into my cerebral cortex as time passes. Infiltrating every crease in my brain. All-enveloping. Minutes – or maybe they are even seconds, who knows – pass like hours as the mind-numbing drone of low, low bass from some earth-moving or excavating equipment looks for a deeper place to bury itself. All the time accompanied by that annoying-as-fuck high pitched beep, beep, beep that I thought was reserved for reversing trucks.
As the hum digs in deeper, my brain lets out a silent – but very much present – cry for help in the form of a throbbing headache. The throbbing of my head is trying to outdo the hum! DAMN! It’s a battle. Nay. A war. A WAR. In my head. Who can annoy Vikki the most?
Will it be the annoying-excavator-machine-incessant-hum, or will it be the mind-numbing-verging-on-migraine headache.
And the rattle? My house is over 100 years old. The rattle is coming from the windows. I envision a scenario where the hum gets so loud and penetrating that it fills my house with all of that humming energy and the windows rattle until they all burst outwards in a huge shattering of glass. And the hum escapes, winding and twirling out through the broken windows like smoke from a burning house. Except it’s a hum. A visible hum.
Get me out of here!
Don’t they know I have work to do?
Don’t they know that to do this work I need to concentrate?
Don’t they know that I can’t concentrate with that damn HUM?
It’s 6:10pm on the Friday before a holiday Monday.
GO HOME and leave my head in peace!