Preparing for battle

Those of you who know me know well that I'm not exactly what one would call "a morning person."

I stay up late. Not necessarily of a desire to burn the midnight oil, it's simply the way my body works. Late to bed, (ideally) late to rise makes a Victoria healthy and at least tolerable in the a.m. hours.

On a related note, I do not well handle being abruptly woken up.

That said, I have been awoken thrice in three days by the carpentry crew renovating the house in which I live. With shouting, blaring radio or, in Monday's case, the sound of what I still maintain was a schoolbus being split in two by a chainsaw.

I haven't handled it particularly well, but much better than I'd imagined. Save a terse introduction to the carpentry crew on Monday morning, during which I can neither confirm nor deny that my eyes glowed with the fires of hell, I've kept my mouth shut.

Angry? Yes. Accomodating? As much as I could be.

This morning, I tried to wake up early (early for me is shortly after 8 a.m. - no need to comment on how I'm lazy, thank you). But they still beat me to it. Right around 8 a.m., hammers start pounding, shouts begin and the radio kicks in.

Beth was in the apartment to see my rage, and she kept me in check, which in turn meant that I snapped at her and stormed off to my shower, nearly in tears, with a seething "Well, YOU haven't been awoken by this EVERY DAY THIS WEEK. I HAVE."

But she kept me from storming outside and I later apologized.

As I prepared to get into my car, much earlier than I normally do, one of the crew members approached me. The bright and shiny yellow truck in which they came was parked behind mine in the driveway (of course). "You want me to move this so you can get out?"

I smiled. "Please. And I was curious. What time do you guys plan on being here in the mornings? My hours are really different than yours, and I'm trying to be accommodating by waking up before you get here, but the last three days I've been woken up with some really loud noises coming from you guys. The walls in this house are thin and sound carries. I felt badly about snapping at one of you guys on Monday and I don't want to be the bitch tenant, but I don't at all handle well being woken up, particularly by such loud noise. I want to work with you guys, you know what I mean?"

He smiled back. "I'm really sorry about that. We're trying to work as fast as we can. We usually start at 8. And we're almost done with most of the heavy stuff on this side of the house."

"That's great, but my bedroom is on the other side, so I'm worried. But hey. If I'm awake at 7:30, you won't be here yet? I'd just hate to snap at you when it's that I haven't had my coffee yet."

He laughed. "What if I bring you coffee?"

"You might be my new best friend."

The conversation continued briefly and brilliantly. I felt infinitely better and we were on good terms as he opened the door to the truck and prepared to move it.

A call from the roof.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up. "Moving the truck so she can get out."

"She has plenty of room."

"She's nervous."

"She has plenty of room."

I stared back and forth. Are you serious?

"She's nervous about it."

The call from the roof turned surly. "So move her car for her."

"I'm just going to back into the lawn. You saying you don't want me moving your truck?"

Niceness is one thing. Being given a hard time in my own driveway was too much.

"Just move THE DAMN TRUCK!" I shouted before I jumped into my car. Beth, her eyes wide in surprise at the exchange, climbed into the passenger side. The one nice member of the crew moved the truck so we could leave, and I resisted the urge to hit the ladder with which the asshole crew member had climbed the roof.

"Ooooooh, I can't believe he said that!" I said as I turned onto the street and prepared to properly begin my day. "I can't WAIT for tomorrow."

Anyone have any blue face paint handy? I'm going to have to end up going "Braveheart" on these guys.