Apartment living has its benefits. No maintenance and the like, but there are significant drawbacks; especially when you live in an older apartment building like mine.
For the next 30 days, a crew of hardworking individuals will be waking me up at 7:30 in the morning by dropping what sound like bowling balls on the roof of my top-floor apartment. So far the noises have sounded like the aforementioned sports equipment, a jackhammer, a hammer, footsteps from someone wearing 500 pound lead shoes, and a drill that sounds like nothing short of a NASCAR spec torque wrench.
I've had what appear to be Mexican Special Forces both rappelling off the roof and scaling ladders to peer in my windows, all under the guise of 'repair work.'
This morning, the thunderous cacaphony began promptly at 7:30 with a loud crash which scared the hell out of me and interrupted my very special, contemplative, ritual morning poop. The shock was so severe that I nearly sustained sphincter damage from the hypersonic clenching reflex.
Upon returning home from work this evening I found my bathroom fan dislodged from the ceiling, my living room chandelier hanging loosely, cracks around my a/c registers, cracks in some of the walls and doorjambs as well as nails punched out of the ceiling plaster.
I don't know what the hell they're doing up there, but it's more like demolition work at this point. They've managed to literally break my apartment open like a hardboiled egg.
My only succor at this point would be to see one or two of them tumble off in a suicidal plunge. Oh well, a guy can dream.
