Yesterday I was awoken at 7 o’something to a chorus of jackhammers, whirring of industrial sawblades, my floor and bed shaking. My alarm does not go off until 8:25am and I do not get out of bed before 8:45am so I was not very happy with ruckus outside my window. Construction again?
Every night it’s the same thing. In the five years I’ve lived in this apartment, scaffolding has been erected and taken down from the façade of the school across the street at least twice. I have no idea what they’re chronically fixing but the banging and pounding goes on well into the night. Not that I’m trying to sleep at 9:30pm but in the summer when windows are open it drowns out the TV. Once we called 311 during an interrupted episode of 24 because what Jack Bauer has to say is very important to me.
When I left for work yesterday the entire sidewalk was torn up and construction guys were hanging out drinking coffee in our front brick courtyard. I started to scowl as I started out the door, but they were polite and said hi and I don’t really enjoy being a grump to manual laborers who have to start work at ridiculous hours (however, everyone else is fair game for grumpery).
So, last night when I came home from work there were all these trees planted alongside our building. (The two farthest windows are my bedroom—I like keeping the foliage covering the back one because it’s right where my eye-level bed is. If you come peep in my window I’ll have to McNugget punch you.) Pretty nice, right? Who knew? That’s what happens when you live in a respectable white neighborhood. Nature just shows up.
Actually, it looks like anyone can request a street tree from the Department of Parks & Recreation. Maybe you should. (Am I the only one who thinks that show is funnier than The Office? The Jim/Pam storyline has evolved to a place that is gross and uncomedic. Plus, Parks and Recreation had Megan Mullally playing a psycho library director and I also do love library humor.)
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