Fucking people
2004-02-24 at 1:46 p.m.
I'm pissed off.
At whom, you ask? At the construction workers working on the house across the street from me. They're trying to level out the yard by using fill dirt. They're also laying gravel under where they'll pour the concrete walkway later this week. The fill dirt is located on the vacant lot next door to me. All day long, they've been toting dirt from the pile to the yard across the street. Back and forth, back and forth. In doing so, they've made a hellacious mess on the street. There's so much mud on the street, including large basketball sized chunks, you can no longer see the conrete.
I understand that this is inevitable. We were one of the first families to move into this subdivision, so I was bound to have to endure the early morning rumbling of ditch witches, Bobcats and concrete mixers. I'm aware that since the dirt is actually mud, they can't help but make a mess on the street with it. There's no real way around it.
What pisses me off, is that they left the mud on the street when they left for the day! K spent three hours and thirty bucks washing my car over the weekend. I shouldn't have to drive through a mud bog just trying to get out of my driveway.
And another thing... The workers were hanging some gutter work on the new house earlier today. Since the street was too muddy and the driveway of the new house had just been poured and was still wet, they needed a large, clean open workspace. What better spot than my driveway?! Thank goodness I saw this from the window and didn't just barrel-ass out of my driveway and cut my tires up on the gutters. I hope they didn't ruin my concrete in an effort to keep the neighbor's concrete nice.
The workers are getting more and more inconsiderate. I'm awakened at 6:00am, not by saws, trucks and other "white noise" construction sounds. I'm awakened by them standing two feet in front of each other and having to yell as if they were at opposite ends of the street. Is this necessary?
All day, I'm subjected to their loud, blaring heavy metal music, trucks blocking my driveway and words that would embarrass even experts in the art of profanity, such as myself.
To make the situation worse, I made the mistake of calling K at work to tell him about the street and the gutters-across-my-driveway dilemma. I told him in order to vent my frustrations, I never intended for him to do what he did, which was to call the office. The evidently said something to the workers, because before they left for the day, I was greeted with scowls and glares by Biff and the crew across the street. Yikes!
This will get worse before it gets better. Although the house across the street should be complete in a couple of weeks, the three lots to the left of me are all vacant and will be housing inventory homes this spring and summer.
I guess I can wait a year or so to have a clean car again.