I hate sleeping, I think it’s unproductive. I mean, you wouldn’t find me in a state of slumber on my days off. I only doze off when I needed to (e.g., hangover) and only when I couldn’t subjugate my eyelids to remain open. I have a plethora of mundane things to do instead if I could help it. Sleeping on a corkboard for a mattress makes the experience even less appealing. However, it so happen that I do need sleep as the next person and like everyone else, I’d want an undisturbed and hopefully, dreamless sleep.
I live in the quieter part of town - less vehicular traffic and conveniently near a park. It seems rather perfect, or so I thought. A few months back, a family moved in to the unit right below mine and guess what they brought along with them, a metal workshop! It wouldn’t have been a problem if I work during the day or if I can block out the irritating noise of metal cutting through metal, or if I sleep like a log. Not to mention these women who love talking to each other at the top of their voices from midnight till god knows when and there’s the occasional family squabble that often end up with something getting smashed and the police summoned.
As if it wasn’t enough of a torture, people have started to occupy the new apartment complex adjacent to my building. Naturally, there ensued some sort of construction frenzy. Yes, incessant pounding and more of the metal grinding noise. I sometimes think they’re having a secret contest or something as to who can make the loudest and most unbearable, head-splitting, shrilling drill sound and I am the unwitting judge.
But I lived through that and somehow kept my sanity intact (have i?). Keeping the windows shut all the time somehow mitigated the oppressive noise. I’m kind of comfortable with my place to even bother contemplating about moving. I have come to accept this “minor” inconvenience as something I couldn’t control though, it never stopped me ranting about it from time to time.
At the start of winter though, it became oddly quiet. Either the workshop had been ordered to close or it had simply become too cold to work. Whichever it is, I was just gratuitously thankful for the momentary absence of any auditory annoyance. I’ve heard enough scraping metal to last a lifetime and beyond. Well, until last Monday…
It’s a classic case of the gods conspiring against me, really. Just when I had to work 12-hour night shifts for a week did I hear unbelievably annoying noise from the room right above me. I could only stare helplessly at the ceiling when the noise gets too loud, fearing it would cave in any moment. I think they’re using a jackhammer up there, from the sound of it. Not to be outdone, two other people are pounding on the concrete wall (or the floor, for that matter.) I could only wait until they’re done for the day before I could finally sleep, leaving me with just a couple or so hours before it’s time for me to wake up again for work. It really sucks, big time. I’m grumpy, lethargic and unreasonably irascible throughout my waking hours.
As I’m wrapping this up, it’s past 4 pm already. On a Sunday… They’re still at it up there. As for me, I still have to catch a wink…
