I'm home from work right now because I went out late last night, in fact, didn't get home till 3 AM, and no, I was not sitting around in a park somewhere, throwing dried bits of macaroni at squirrels. I was out drinking. I went out with a tall Canadian, who I will never drink with again, because I totally fucking forget this every single time, but I cannot drink with tall people (not to mention tall and Canadian, but we will not even get into that), because I am much, much shorter than them (which is not to say that I am short, only shorter), so the whole experience you might have, where you bond as you get drunker because you're both in the same place, etc, doesn't happen, because as much as they drink, they will never be drunk, and then suddenly, a tall Canadian is looking at you going, "You're pretty drunk, aren't you? Heh." And you are, you are drunk, because you have somehow led yourself to believe that if you wear your new red boots that make you two inches taller, this will somehow have an impact on your tolerance, but it won't, you will not be able to drink more because you appear two inches taller, and, actually, the fact that you wore those boots will only serve to hinder you later as you try to walk and find that it is not easy in the slightest.

I am a moron.

So I decided to sleep late, or rather, an appropriate amount of time, rather than struggling to get into a job I have significantly less interest in every single day. Unfortunately, sleep past 9 AM is no longer possible in my apartment building because there is incessant construction noise starting right around that time outside of my window. Do you think I am joking? I wish I was.

First off, I haven't been able to dress in my room all week, because the workers have been hanging out on the fire escape outside my window. And I had a vase out there, and one of the workers knocked it over and broke it. I stood in my room and watched him. And then he kept on walking. It sucks. I complained about it to my building manager, so now what they do is move things on my fire escape into my room, like my hanging plant, and another vase, but also an old bottle, left there after some party we had. And these items are all covered in dust and dirt from the construction, and now sit on my windowsill.

And then there's the noise. My bed lies between two narrow, but high windows, which I usually find to be the best thing about my room. Not so today. I woke up this morning to find a man hanging from a rope outside of one of my windows, and another standing outside the other window on the fire escape. They could totally see into my room. The man on the rope had some sort of pick and was slowly and loudly chipping into the brick wall. So imagine being hungover, on five hours sleep, and waking up to a man making a loud, metallic chipping noise literally right next to your head, and add to that they ultimately transitioned into drilling for a good three hours now, and then you know how I feel right now. That's right - terribly, terribly sexy.

So while I would love to stay home for the day and call in sick, alas, it is not to be. For it is far, far better for me to sit in my office and stare into space in complete silence, than for me to sit at home surrounded by noise.

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