sessifet | You know that feeling?

Where you're curled up all snug and comfortable in your bed, knowing that you don't have to get out of bed because you have time off? That feeling that says you can sleep as long as you want and you don't have to worry about housemates or parents or siblings disturbing you?

It's a good feeling, isn't it? Yeah.

Too bad I didn't get to experience it, because someone thought it'd be a good idea to start drilling at eight in the morning. Eight! I went to bed at fucking mumble!

I'm not begrudging these peopple their well deserved holes or anything, but...eight in the morning? I know, I know. It sounds like I'm against drilling holes, but I'm not. Honestly! I myself have had the opportunity to drill a few quite crucial ones. But, and here's the crucial difference, not. At. Eight. In. The. Bloody. Bastard. Morning.

I always waited until nine to give normal non-holedrilling people a chance to wake up before I started making The Noise.

Oh, for the love of cockbunnies...

The drill is following me around. It's moved from above my head in my bedroom to above my head in the living room. It's been going on for two hours now. Surely one doesn't need that many holes? Are they taking down the dividing wall by drilling perforations around the edge or something?

I'm in the land of wake with no chance of catching a ride back to the land of sleep any time soon.

ETA: It stopped. Hurray! And now they've started up a belt sander. Boo.