Tenth Musee

I need to find a new place to work. It’s very difficult for me to get anything done here lately with all the noise.  If it’s not the freaking parrots, it’s the owner of the parrots who likes to blare his bass in the parking lot despite my repeated requests not to (the same parking lot Tire Guy bangs his tube in).  Every single time he says, “Oh, I forgot. Sorry, I thought no one was home.” And every time, I respond, “I’m always home.” I mean, crimony, dude!  The bass rattles my wall and gives me a headache.  Do I have to hang a sign outside alerting people that I’m home now?

I don’t want to be a jerk, you know? I realize people have a right to live and play their music and whatever.  I also realize it’s during a work week when he thinks people are away from their homes. But some of us aren’t and I pay my rent and deserve peace like anyone else.

He uncovers his damn parrots at 6am in the morning and with it being Summer, everyone in the neighborhood has their windows open.  So they squawk and carry on, especially on the weekends because he sings to them. He SINGS!  You can hear him up there singing to the birds while his wife or girlfriend clanks the dishes around and cooks breakfast.  One morning I yelled out the window “For god’s sake, shut up! This isn’t freaking Costa Rica!” but that didn’t seem to sway him.  I can’t imagine why.

The other day, he was using a chainsaw to cut logs about 3 feet from my open bedroom window.  He’s up a bit higher on the hill, so looking out my window, I was eye-level with the saw.  Dust, wood chips, all this crap was flying in the air and into my windows.  What the hell!!? Are you planning on busting a crackling fire any time soon?  I’m not.  Save it for Winter, dude!

Every time I go ask him to turn down his radio, he’s nice about it and he always says good morning, so I don’t want to be a complete bitch, but this is getting ridiculous. I’ve got to get some work done!  I’ve got to!  And all that’s happening is he’s making me underline things a lot.

*bangs head*