The One with the Remodel

So my Landlord, God bless his soul, decided to remodel the apartment below me since the tenant moved out. I discovered this upon coming home from vacation Thursday afternoon to find my garage door open and a bunch of strange men meandering around. Once in my apartment, I was pleased to discover you could hear the work going on below quite well. This thrilled me to no end. I decided not to pitch a fit, since it was a weekday and normally I would be working anyways.

Saturday, 8:30am – Annoying jack hammer sound and pounding as though the contruction-ers were at the foot of my bed. I yelled, I’m sure loud enough for them to hear, “IT’S SATURDAY.” The sound died down for approximately 3 minutes then vibrantly refilled the air around me. I begrudgingly got up, stomped around and flushed the toilet many times, hoping they were working on the plumbing and it screwed up whatever they were doing. I have no knowledge of plumbing, but it seemed like a good revenge since I didn't have my make-up on yet, and I hadn't had enough caffeine to go downstairs and yell at them.

After my flush-a-thon of angst, I went to my kitchen, where I was lucky enough to hear one of the worker's renditions of “Call Me” by Carley Rae Jepsen, through the heating vent. I disregarded judging him for this, as that song is incredibly catchy. I also had the pleasure of hearing one of them belch impressively. In my annoyance with morning, men and construction, I decided I needed something to cheer me up. I entertained myself for the rest of the morning by leaning down next to the vent and whispering, “I can hear you.”

As the day progressed, I kept yelling in my apartment for them to be quiet. It was neither effective nor tactful. But be honest, who was the genius who remodeled a multi tenant building on a Saturday and didn't expect to get nagged through the ceiling by the pain in the butt upstairs? Didn't think that one though did you Landlord? I was just thinking of my neighbors! I mean some people could be hung over and needing to sleep in. Not me obviously, having been in bed by midnight. But my wonderful neighbors were having a party last night, and I am sure they wanted their rest. I have somehow managed to convince them that I am much older than them, therefore, they don’t ask me to come over and play beer pong with their friends. I am almost positive we are the same age, but I always say things like, “When I was your age,” and “I’ve been out of school so long,” and “Oh, to be young again.” I do this so they at least think I got my craziness out of my system in my youth, and that's why I choose a life of solitude now. Though they once commented that I always have people over. I didn't have the heart to tell them it was the same 2 people all the time . . .

Man, I make myself sound more and more cool every day.