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Not so much the Final Straw as it was the Third or Fourth Anvil that has so far followed the Final Straw.

I awoke this fine overcast morn to the sound of workers vigorously pressure-washing the sidewalk outside of my building.

At 7:30 A.M. On a Sunday.

I’ve come to expect the Garbage truck banging my building’s bins against itself for upwards of half an hour every Wednesday morning at 5, the Oregonian doing a mass car-wash on its fleet in the parking lot behind my building every Tuesday night at 11 (right when I’m trying to fall asleep), the ambulances which use 6th Avenue at all hours of the night, and the occasional Safeway-bound freight truck which will inexplicably feel the need to honk its horn as it plows up 6th at 2 AM. (The Hell?)

But the pressure washing caught me completely off guard. That sidewalk runs next to a street that’s about to be torn up for at least a month while they lay new MAX tracks. There is no need to touch it right now. More to the point: it’s 7:30 A.M. On a Sunday. Mother’s Day, no less. There won’t be people trying to use that sidewalk until at least noon. It’s not summer yet, so the workers don’t need to come out early to avoid the heat. Who could have possibly thought it would be more prudent to dispatch the maintenence crew at that hour?

Anyway, I’m done living downtown. I can’t do this anymore. I need 8 hours of sleep every night. 8 uninterrupted hours. This happens maybe 2 nights a week in my current apartment.

I keep talking to all of these people at work who can get by on 5 hours or less, people who have twice the energy that I do. For a while there, I started feeling like 8 hours was a childish indulgence, and I started cutting it back to 7.

And then the rage set in. I remember one day almost grabbing this old man who was walking really erratically in front of me and shouting, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, OLD MAN?” into his isolent, meandering-old-man face. Honestly, this absolutely seemed like a fitting course of action at the time. This is how I behave on 7 hours of sleep.

So I’m think going to stick with 8. I also think it’s time to move somewhere quieter. Emily, let’s commence with the house hunting.

Erin brought me a nifty mini-digital camera when she came to visit, so I’m going to do a picture post as soon as I can get my shit together enough to have the camera (a) in the same place as the things I want to take pictures of and, (b) subsequently in the same place as a computer where I can upload the pictures. Give me at least 3 or 4 weeks. This time I’m going to take pictures of the East Side, too, instead of Downtown. I’m really excited; disposable cameras take terrible pictures, and I would never be able to persuade myself to lay down the cash for a nice digital camera.

Ashley is comming to visit in less than 2 weeks! We may drive to Vancouver. Or we may just drive around Oregon. It doesn’t really matter. As long as I’m riding with Ashley, I’m having a good time.

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5 responses »

  1. I’m jealous of Ashley, but I’m NOT jealous of your apartment situation. Sorry dude. 😦 Take heart in the fact that I’ll be there soon…if your definition of soon is two and a half months. Oh….

    Reply
  2. afraz, you are totally right to be jealous of me. portland is teh awesome, and i’m heading to vegas with an old zurich friend on the way back. who’s going to gamble? ….oh, yea!

    andrew, will you take pictures while i’m there? i’m going to see if my sister will let me borrow her camera but she’ll probably say no and i can’t blame her.

    also, i will take your 8 hours and raise it to 12. back in the day, it was 4. my needs have changed. we are growing old, my friend.

    Reply
  3. Someone please explain “teh” to me. I have NO idea what it means/where it came from, but I’m seeing it everywhere. I want to be cool too.

    Reply
  4. I think it’s a whole bunch of people typing ‘the’ too fast, but I could be wrong.

    Reply
  5. I have a camera! We can use my camera! Speaking of which, I just uploaded all the wedding and honeymoon photos. Minus the naked ones. Those kind of freaked me out in the slideshow. All blown up like that, they’re kind of scary.

    Yay for moving! Yay for new bed! Tomorrow, call me tomorrow.

    Reply

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