In the past few months, the construction work has come home to roost--specifically to my roost. The building owner is having work done both outside and inside of the 20-story building in which I live. There is a law that requires that building owners ensure that any loose exterior bricks, moldings, concrete, etc. be fixed and secured. You know, so no one is killed by the falling debris. Well, apparently the owner of my building let maintenance on that go a little bit, so now there are men on those window-washer pulley contraptions scaling the side of my building on a daily basis. What that means is that sometimes I look up from working on my computer to see a man hovering outside of my kitchen window.
Did I mention that I live on the tenth floor? Yeah. It is a little weird. While I have curtains on my living room window, I don't have any on my kitchen window--because, you know--I live ten stories in the air. Most people would need a telescope to be a peeping Tom here. Not now. To their credit, the workmen outside my window tend to be discrete. Really, there is not much exciting going on in my apartment to leer at anyway. Still, I appreciate the respectful attitude.
Yesterday the work inside the building started, on my floor at least. There was a notice posted by building management that the hallways were going to be repainted. I actually did a small dance of joy when I read that. Don't get me wrong. Walking in my hallway with the current color--which I describe as "dirty apricot"--has been great. I am all about a little "eggshell white", though.
I heard the workman in the hall yesterday and figured that they were prepping for painting. I was a little surprised when I opened the door to go run an errand to find that one of the painters was trying to hermetically seal my apartment shut with tape. He was not just taping around the door frame. He was actually taping the door to the door frame. He nearly fell into my apartment when I opened the door. I wasn't really sure what that was all about until I got back home.
First of all, I had to get back into my apartment which, upon my departure, he did finish sealing shut. Um, excuse me? Did he think that I was never coming back? When I stepped out of the elevator the workmen didn't even look at me better yet help me unseal the door.
When I did finally get into the apartment, my cat was sitting there starring at the door with a look of what I would describe as perplexed terror. My cat is pretty laid back. She doesn't scamper away at every noise. This is an animal that can spend a good 18 hours a day asleep, so I was a little surprised to see her so awake and alert--that is, until the jackhammering started.
Yes, I did say jackhammering. I thought that painting would involve some drop cloths, some spackle and some paint. Well, it does, but yesterday it also involved several hours of workers using jackhammer-like tools to remove the wire covers that house--I don't know--cable wires?--electrical wires?--from the hallway walls. That's when I realized that the taping around the door was to prevent the copious amounts of dust (generated by the aforementioned jackhammering) from getting into the apartments. How considerate of them to try to preserve cleanliness while causing hearing loss for both me and my cat.
This morning when I walked into my hallway I have the still "dirty apricot" walls as well as the now-exposed wires hanging around the ceiling. I can hear the workmen out there again. They seem to be using smaller power tools this morning. I am wondering when they are going to start using the sublimely silent paint brush. Whatever they are doing, they are going to need to let me out of my apartment later for a Starbucks run this afternoon. If worse comes to worse, maybe I can climb out of my apartment window and hitch a ride down with that crew.
Home improvement my ass.
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