Deconstruction

There is a house being built on the lot next to ours.

I am in hell.

It averages 150,000 degrees Fahrenheit here in dry, windy, Tulsa, Oklahoma and people who work outside tend to start things early before the temperatures get suffocating. There must be some sort of neighbourhood covenant about noise because the subcontractors seem to descend around 8:00 am with their heavy equipment, their endless cigarettes and their poor manners.
They park their vehicles in front of my house and walk across my lawn. I despise them.

Recently, something has happened to our water pressure. It used to be great. Now, it doesn't come out with enough force to create bubbles of the dish detergent. I blame the construction work next door.

We were all through with allergies, or so we thought. Now, all four of us are watery-eyed and sinus challenged. It's all the dust and matter in the air from the junk next door.

Remember the dog behind us who barked whenever someone walked by? Well, he barks ALL DAY LONG now that there are people working on the lot adjacent to his back fence. I love animals but that dog is on my very last nerve. I blame the construction.

We have somewhere in the neighbourhood of three months left at this address. While that fact used to cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand straight up with anxiety, I now embrace the coming change with joy. Until then, I will have to adapt and thus, I am scouring the internet researching noise canceling headphones.

A girl has to be able to hear herself think.