I know, it's not even 3 PM, but the day feels like it is over. It's homework, dinner, homework, my work, and then bed. I can't wait for bed.
This morning I was awoken by industrial blowing taking place next door. The parking lot clean up crew were there blowing away a winter's worth of sand at 5:30 AM. Half asleep I stumbled outside in my pjs, covered with a sweatshirt and untied sneakers.
"It's 5:30," I said.
The job foreman's response, "This is the third time you have hassled me about my work." It's true, this was the third spring in a row we have had words over painfully early morning noise.
My fogged with sleep reply, "This is the third time I have had to tell you my children are sleeping -- not twenty feet away from your noise."
He was not moved. My parting words were, "I'm calling the police." I had never resorted to calling the police before. After all you would think two adults could discuss the situation and resolve that sleeping children should be allow to sleep at the wee hour of 5:30 AM.
His parting words, "Do that."
And I did. Still not fully awake I spoke with a very nice policeman about the noise ordinance. I offered that six o'clock is fine, 6:30 better -- but 5:30 in the morning is not right. He sent over a car. The work stopped until the late hour of 7:45.
I hate hate hate hate confrontation. I really hate being the witch of the neighborhood, but... sometimes I have to put on my big girl panties, and open my big mouth. Thank God it is not all the time.