Kitchen Hell

A few days ago I blogged about things that bothered me with anything that prevents me from sleeping presiding at the top of the list. That list has held true to form this week as demolition has started on our soon to be remodeled kitchen.

That's right, every day at 8 am I get awakened to the sound of jackhammers, sledgehammers, regular hammers, and any other kind of hammer you can think of with the exception of maybe Arm & Hammer. Throw in some crowbars, drills, and chainsaws and it's practically a symphony of annoying construction sounds.

While such sounds do remind me fondly of my days at Northeastern, living in the constantly under construction West Village, I'd much prefer to be able to sleep more than six hours a night. Especially since I can't function with less than 10 in my system.

As such, I've been a walking zombie all week even driving the wrong way down a one way street and almost getting killed in the process. At less than 100% awareness it's not a good time to be driving all over the island job interviewing and grad school searching.

To make matters worse, since my room is directly under the kitchen, it's been raining wood chips all over my room. The other day I was taking a dump and pieces of debris started falling on my head. I kid you not.

The whole scene reminds me of the movie Money Pit. I'm still waiting for the day when I come home and find one of the guys hanging through a hole in the floor.

But on the bright side at least I get to eat out the next few weeks in fancy restaurants most of which either have a ball pit in them, serve their food on placemats that have connect the dots on them or have the words bar and grill in their name.