Naturally, we share what domestic chores we can, it's only fair. In fact the whole household helps out. It's like a happy house of flatters, not that I have lived in one. It's as I imagine it to be. I like to help where I can, it all quite casual, and pleasant. Pottering around her house, and her garden very happily. Or, I would be, were it not for something I will speak of later. Although being a guest, I have to back off when it comes to general organisation of the household. My friend, is super organised, with these lists everywhere. Which, seems a very efficient way of organising yourself. Not that I could ever reach such heights.
In the mornings, I tidy what she doesn't have time to. Although cleaning per se, is a bit of a lost cause, with the builders going full steam ahead every day. Although we do what we can, despite the inevitable dust. It's all very comfortable. As for cooking, I cook what she leaves for me, unless her daughter decides do to it instead. We all have our own way of doing things, but thats fine. Besides which, I am happy to fit in, and make her day a little easier. All too soon, I shall be back in my own life, with all the duties myself. So this, is a nice change, and we have fun. When we are together, we laugh a lot.
I mention this routine, only because some of it, the day, the routine, is more difficult than others to cope with. Well, you will perhaps have read my blog, 'a circular saw, in the morning'. In which, I tell of my frustration at the energy, and noise of the builder and his tools. Especially so early in the day, when sloths, such as myself like to be at rest. Even if not actually sleeping. Having to cope with M.E. as I do, brings it's own set of problems. My nights are not always good, and my mornings begin slowly, as everything gradually grinds into gear again, hopefully. I am not a late sleeper anyway. If it's gets to be nine a.m. then, that's the limit. Nothing would keep me in bed after that, I would have to be dying, or something equally drastic.
Normally by then, I will have had a cup of tea, and written a couple of pages. Or, answered some social networking. Words of some description, are always my first thoughts of the day. I can't wait to get started. As my brain runs far earlier, and faster, than my body in the mornings.
O.K. stage set, our favoured routines, set up, ready. Often by now, half past seven, some of the household will be gone, others getting ready to do so. We are five persons at the moment, soon to be six. I, out of consideration, and my own lethargy, stay clear of the bathroom until everyone is out if the house. All good, so far!
Here though, comes the fly in the ointment! The builder... That man with the white van, full of noise. It's white metal casing wrapped around himself, and his interminable tools. His horrid, noisy tools, which, no doubt, he loves. His hammer, his saws, his plaster boards, his dust, and his ineffable energy, and pure persistence. From the time he arrives, often just before half past seven, there is not another minute of peace, and quiet. Not in this house, or around this house. He is like a crazed hamster, on a wheel. Arrrggg. Bang, bang, saw, saw, boom, boom, boom...CRASH! Before it begins again. Inside, banging, outside, sliding doors, dragging materials, banging, sawing. Inside, dragging, banging, hammering, even more frantic hammering, CRASH! Slide.......bang. As I try to slide, in my wooly dressing gown, without being noticed, into the end bathroom.
Oh my god, I'm so tired of it, so depressed because of it. Soooo weary....The noise, the never ending noise. Doesn't he need a tea break, to go get materials, to talk on the phone...anything! Just give me peace, I need peace....and quiet. I really need some quiet at home, where I sleep. Ohhhh, please be quiet.
Of course it doesn't happen. I drink tea in noise, get up, in noise, I shower in noise. I dress, make bed, tidy, hang washing, all in noise. The whole world is noise. It's a way of torturing prisoners isn't it? Subject them to consistent, non stop noise. I'll talk...I'll tell you anything... I'll break, I'm ready to break....on the edge, borderline crazy. What would he think if I ran from my room, screaming? I bet he would merely continue hammering, and building. He must be used to crazy customers. Pulling down, and building. It's his job, it's his living, it's who heeeeeee is.
Instead, I will continue my day, as if all is peaceful. Good morning Mr builder! Nice day! you look busy! As if it's all a surprise to find him there, in the corridor out side my door, and everything else in my life is wonderful.
Perhaps. I am already crazy, not just on the turn. Rationally, I understand this work must be done, needs to be completed before Christmas. Rationally, I am happy for my friend to get these renovations done. Rationally, I realize I am lucky she even considered having me here when everything is so busy, so hectic. I wanted to be here, and she went to extremes to make it beautiful, as comfortable for me as she could. It is the measure of her friendship towards me, and I assured her the noise, and the dust didn't bother me one iota.
I did not lie, honestly...the concept, the process, the upheaval really does not concern me. I suppose it's the ambiguity of my head. It's just the constant noise, on my too sensitive ears. Did you know psychic people have sensitive ears? Well, I do at any rate. Very sensitive...
I am also sensitive enough to know I never want her to read this. Or she might feel bad. Something I would hate... The chances she will, are small. Apart from that, a writer always dramatises situations. She will understand that. Perhaps that's what I am...A drama queen! I know of some who would agree.
Ahhh, another good excuse there....good morning mr builder... Lovely day! Keep smiling.
As for those b b b b b's in the title. Well, you can fill in the blanks. I could, easily...
B b b b but it would be rude!
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