Nothing (much) To Report

1.53: I really want to sleep. I ache all over, my eyes hurt, along with my head – a product of sitting crossed legged and hunched over this laptop with near constant staring at the screen, coupled with one too many late nights, (plus a little vodka earlier this evening) but I’m not allowed to slip into blissful, restful slumber.

OK, it’s a Saturday night, plenty of people are out drinking, dancing, staggering around clubs and town centres, snogging (and more) strangers, and probably hugging toilet bowls, but I doubt any normal considerate humans are bashing (or something?!) bricks about, dragging spades across concrete and generally carrying on like it’s 2 in the afternoon on a Monday (for example).

It’s next-door you see. They’ve been constructing a monstrosity of a shed for some time now, usually at inappropriate times. Tonight the geezer actually doing the work, an assumed (by us) lodger, has some mates round. Whether they’re helping him is debatable. They’re certainly helping in raising the noise levels, shouting and laughing as though they’re in the middle of nowhere. I have ear plugs in but I can still hear everything. Oh and then there’s the music: rap on the whole, with the odd soul number, with a little Bob Marley earlier on at around midnight. I think most of this output is thanks to gfm, (that’s giving my location away a little) as that’s the ident I keep hearing in-between the tracks and the rather shouty DJ. Every so often it goes quiet and I get my hopes up that they’re about to call it a night with the labouring and drinking and guffawing, but alas, it hasn’t happened yet. Obviously, otherwise it’s unlikely I’d be writing this.

If I had a loaded gun right now, I’d definitely use it. Unfortunately they’d probably see me before I could take one of them out, or the radio, as my bedroom window overlooks their back yard, one of the reasons why I suffer more with the noise pollution (and frequent air pollution thanks to the lodger revving up his bike for far longer than necessary) then anyone else in this house. I also would be thwarted, shortly followed by being arrested, due to the 1000 watt (I’m guessing) light they have conveniently pointing in the general direction of my window. An anti-tank missile might be better, but that would probably be a suicidal course of action to take, due the close proximity.

Wait! No surely not? Is it true? Has it ended? Can I finally get some sleep?
No, they’re still there. Bastards.

2.27: And now I can smell smoke, so they've started the bonfire up again!

I debated for quite a while with myself about whether to pick up the laptop or not, glad I did. Means I’ve written about something that isn’t connected to weddings; something slightly readable, after some work/thinking; I won’t spend the rest of the night unable to sleep due to thinking about writing this only to completely forget everything in the morning, as I usually do.

2.36: Well, bugger I!
It’s all stopped!
No light, no music, no blokey-type sounds. At last!

2.42: Completely wrong. The music does seem to quietened down at least, but the cement mixer is going now.
When will this end?
Can I knock myself out?
Should've drunk more vodka, or stayed on IRC for longer.

2.58: Really tired now, so I'm gonna stick a pillow over my head and try again.
Goodnight.

3.11: Oh, crap. The shouty, sweary rap "music" has restarted. I shall shortly be crying, and very grumpy tomorrow in the morning afternoon.