And I thought that I would come here to clean a space inside myself, because it is healthier to rage here, than say get up out of the bed in my t-shirt, pull on only a jacket and my biggest boots, forget the pants, and stomp over Bridget Jones' style across the street and start kicking every piece of damn machinery they've got running over there.
There are no words.
Okay, maybe there are a few words. WHY! WHY? Dear God of all things that must have sleep to survive teaching the monsters all day, why? I do not understand how this construction company can be justified in jackhammering at all hours of the night. Let's see... it started about 12:30 last night. Granted, I wished I was asleep by then, but I wasn't and that's not the point. It's not as if I have a contract with the workers over there: You start work after my bed time and give me ample time to be into a deep circadian rhythm that cannot be shaken by an earthquake, kay? Negative.
Maybe if the drilling into the concrete had a rhythm, then maybe I could do it. Maybe I could fall asleep to the sounds of metal against hard things bouncing between the buildings, filling the entire street with a raucous cacophony of destruction. Which is another thing I don't understand. Why, now that the building is up and the restaurants are advertising an opening in a week, why are they now digging large ditches into the streets and the sidewalks around the building? (If you know the answer to that, don't tell me. I really don't care. It's stupid, whatever the answer is.)
Alas, there is no rhythm whatsoever. There is only the sound of the big jackhammer pounding like a drunk tap dancer who is attempting to dodge the rotten tomatoes of his audience. Speaking of rotten tomatoes, last night I was on the verge of insanity. I understood how people slipped into madness. I began to imagine all the crimes that we label "senseless" as probably being somehow instigated or at least heartily encouraged by the noise of construction sites.
The drilling began at 12:30 and did not stop until around 2:30, at which point I had fully sunken into the saddest surrender. I had already thrashed around in my bed, muscles taut and fighting the noise, fighting the urge to break things, to injure something or someone. I had also gone through the crying phase, where I sobbed uncontrollably, collecting pools of hot angry tears and snot on my pillow case. I finally stopped crying, just as suddenly as I had started. I resigned myself to another night of no sleep and reluctantly turned on the light and began to read.
I read until it had been quiet for 15 minutes. Well, not quiet, but the drill had been silenced at least. Then, I decided that perhaps my body was so incredibly exhausted that I could fall asleep. I turned out the light and prayed all sorts of not-so-terrible curses on the construction workers: that they would have the rest of the night off, that they would lose all electricity and power making further drilling impossible, that the only guy who could expertly run the jackhammer would have a serious but short-lived bout of intense diarrhea. All of these things I asked God to rain down upon the jerks across the street.
Honestly, how is this not illegal? Please tell me. How? And how the hell is everyone else in my building sleeping? Are Koreans simply immune to noise pollution all together? I've adjusted quite a bit and have no problem with the general traffic and buses and honking and drunkards' shouts and songs. But the jackhammering goes straight to my brain. It kills every ounce of patience and goodwill within me. My bones echo with the emptiness of bitterness and fury.
The thing is, I got a few hours of sleep. But the concrete busting began once again at 6am. Now, I know that a lot of people get up at 6 am. It's not an unreasonable time to wake up if you're anyone else in the world. But I give myself 15 minutes max in the morning if I'm showering. 5 minutes max if I'm not. See? I can sleep happily until 8 and still make it to work on time with a 4o minute commute. But noooooooooooooo. I have to toss and turn in the abyss of sleeplessness in the wee hours because someone has to have a stupid hole in the earth right this moment.
What. The. Hell? How am I supposed to get sleep? This happened before, right when I got back from the States. But it was a weekend and so I didn't fret too much about lost sleep because I could sleep late. However, by Tuesday (the shenanigans began on Friday night), I was ragged. I decided to go sleep at Kenny's house to get a decent night's sleep. But I can't do that every night and it's incredibly inconvenient for everyone and it's just plain weird.
Ear plugs, Danielle, ear plugs! I hear you, darlings. It's like using a piece of Scotch tape to fix the hole where the water's coming in.
Can you feel my pain? I am tempted to knock on all the doors on my floor and ask how they are sleeping. How do they do it? But it seems that Koreans require much less sleep than I do anyhow. Actually, it seems that most people in general require much less sleep than I do. But I can't help that. And I need my sleep, people.
I am already pitying my monsters tomorrow if I don't get sleep tonight. I can already hear their desperate cries: "I like Danielle Teacher NO!" Yeah, we're working on the whole "I don't like" thing.
I like nighttime construction NO!
Let's all have a moment of silence in which we urge, nay beg, the Lord to grant me a peaceful, jackhammerless night so that this blog may rest in peace, instead of being stirred by the waters of The Rage.
I wish all my compatriots in Korea a good night's rest, without construction and with sweet dreams of beautiful comments to leave on my blog. And for the rest of the world, may your sleep be deep and leave you refreshed enough to write many, many comments on my blog.