October Rubble

I had the best of intentions for Horrordailies. I had the time because I didn’t have to commute. I was writing morning pages and clearing my head of all the static that accumulates there so I could be creative later in the day. The building was quiet because it’s only about 60% occupancy.

And then it started.

The jackhammering.

Some genius in the company that owns my apartment building decided that now would be a great time to renovate the pool, and every day, Monday through Friday, for eight hours, I get to hear jackhammering right outside my window.

This is with my windows closed. Turn your amp all the way to 11 and you’ll have an idea.

Oh, they say they “have” to do it now. It’s a “small window” before the ground freezes. The concierge mumbled something about permits, budgeting, and contractors, and how if they didn’t do the renovations now, they wouldn’t be able to open the pool next summer.

Which is a steaming dogpile, because the tenants weren’t informed of this until October 1, and the work started on October 5. If they got the permits quickly, then they could get them just as quickly next September. If they knew several months in advance, they should have canceled the work and then rescheduled it for next September, when the majority of tenants would most likely be back to working in offices.

I raised an unholy stink, as did other tenants, and this week we heard all about this fabulous new “hospitality suite” on the 17th floor where the noise doesn’t reach. Then I learned that this hospitality squite can hold seven people.

No. Not even with social distancing. I live in a youngish area. I see how people rip off their masks as soon as they leave the building. I also see how some people, like my next-door neighbor, never wear a mask even though they know very well that it’s required in the building. I know she has one, because I slipped one under her door. She’s just too vain to wear it. She likes to pretend she doesn’t understand English—except that I know how to tell her in Russian that she needs to wear the damn thing because I don’t feel like dying for her vanity.

The building management has given me permission to work in an empty apartment, but I need to try it out and see if I can use my organization’s VPN via their internet access. If I can’t, I will have to schlep to my office in D.C. I did that last week and it was peaceful, but I don’t feel safe taking Metro so I have been taking Uber in and walking the 4.5 miles home in the evening for some exercise. I can’t do that every day, however, because I don’t feel like paying $75 a week to Uber and dealing with a hike home every day.

At any rate, it’s a miserable situation and it will continue through the end of the month, after which they will be laying the tiles down and then the annoyance will go from sound to smell. I may have to send Inigo to birdie camp because although he seems to be okay with the noise, fumes can kill a bird very quickly.

Point is, I’m pretty exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically from this fresh hell, so turning on my computer in the evening and writing even more on top of the writing I do for my job is the last thing I want to do.

I suppose there’s always National Blog Posting Month, which is November, and then we’re into Holidailies for December. That is, if I’m not packing up to move out of this horror show.

Maybe they’ll find a body. Then I’ll have something to write about, boy howdy.

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