September 5, 2001

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The office suite upstairs from the law firm is being renovated for a new tenant. The husband of the tenant seems to be doing the bulk of the work. I understand from those who have met him that he is a really nice person, and is apologetic about all the noise.

I haven't met him, but I can vouch for the noise. The man is hammering the hell out of something. I don't know what he's doing that requires such prodigious use of the hammer, but he's been at it both working days this week. Everybody in the law firm is ready for him to be through, even though we understand that it's necessary to make the noise to finish the renovation.

Tuesday afternoon was perhaps worse than today. I was trying to do some online research for the firm, and was scrolling through pages of a site that I wish had a better search function. The Hammer Man was doing something that required about ten hammer thumps, then some quiet time, then another ten, and so on. Every time he would start, I lost my place on the page. I rather quickly resorted to scrolling with one hand and holding the top of my pen against the screen with the other. That kept me from screaming about being interrupted.

Not that I wasn't cursing under my breath. I also briefly entertained the notion of taking some unpaid time off to go up and help him.

Of course, there is the startle factor, which kicks in every time he starts. It's amazing how many times one can jump like that in the course of an hour.

Today, the hammering was a little more intermittent. I realized he had actually stopped for about an hour---I think he must have decided to go to lunch. I wanted to go upstairs when he started in again and offer to pay for dessert if he'd just go back out.

He promises to be through very soon. My hearing and my sanity certainly hope that's the case.