ooph. a construction worker is literally “working” right under my desk as i type this plaintive lament. directly next to my right leg, he is causing major trauma to what used to be a perfectly decent wall. drilling a hole in it. i’m sure the means justify the end, but as far as i can tell, he is only perpetuating this PAINFULLY LOUD drilling ruckus to frustrate me and make my monday self mildly belligerent. and that is an objective conclusion.
earlier, the construction workers were throwing things through the other side of the wall — with no rhyme or reason. this caused me to drink, in a blind rage, some shards of styrofoam peanuts that fell in my water.
working conditions are tough
photo courtesy of Flickr and bbhart
they should really be called destruction workers. it would certainly give them the street credit i’m sure they deserve, and maybe then they’d leave us peaceful folk alone. who wanted another phone line? did i ask for another phone line? nooooo. someone decided my life would never be complete without another phone line, but that’s not all! what else does she get, jim? well, chuck, we’re also throwing in a monday afternoon headache for free! i am now laying my head down on my desk in an act of submission. WHITE FLAG.
disclaimer (me claiming my diss): i really don’t mind construction workers and in fact, actually welcome interruption as pastime in my otherwise monotonous day. to be even fairer, the guy has been apologizing the whole time like a very sympathetic ear dentist. however, my irritation was pseudo-unleashed when one of my bosses came by to point and laugh at me while i was trying to “work” on the set of STOMP.
this weekend i went to a baby shower and scrapbooked. hard.