I've been trying to avoid it. I made a vow to myself that I was going to stay nice. I have smiled at every punk or sucker that has given me abysmally bad service at any given store or shop. (Regular people are nice; it’s the workers that are jerkwads.)
This morning, I crumbled. I fell hard. Much yelling and pounding. Like Tantor or Kong. Like a baby.
To start the day I was awoken by the loud and high-pitched noise of a buzz saw directly above my head. It has been my alarm clock and daily music for past two weeks. Constant, pounding, and slamming and sawing. From 8:00 a.m. till 8:00 p.m. BUT, as far as that goes, I have persevered. Too much beauty in this here city to get mad about people renovating our apartment building so we can have a patio on the roof and cameras to view the people outside who are calling us.
It was the shower that got me.
I stepped in and lathered up nice and put the soap down to rinse form the new and fancy showerhead freshly installed. Without warning, the shower went to a drip, then off. It was just naked-sudsy-me, arse getting colder by the second, and the sweet morning sounds of the pounding and sawing.
I exploded. Erupted. Screamed like a banshee. There was silence. I then said very clearly, "WATER-BACK-ON-NOOOOW." Thinking that my show of brute force and volume had sent fear into the hearts of the workers and imagining them scrambling to retrace their steps and undo what had been done, I watched the faucet with wild eyes, feeling powerful.
Finally after a few seconds, I heard the sound of one faint, latinoesque giggle, then, back to work the men went with renewed vigor.
Only after a phone call to the Super did the water get turned on and I was plenty calm by then, however still soapy wet.