Monday, October 27, 2008

And my birthday began with shouting...

Yes, I began my special day with shouting.  But that was more than a month ago already.  Just haven't blogged for quite a while.  Been busy moving to our new apartment, that's why.  Now back to my birthday.


I wasn't really in the best of moods that particular September morning.  I was still sleepy and running late at the same time.  Just as I finished feeding Kwittie Boy (our cat), I heard some thumping outside.  I couldn't have been mistaken: it was the sound of someone pounding on the concrete sidewalk.

More than a month earlier, the sidewalk across our apartment was demolished to give way supposedly to a better drainage system.  Yes, it was already about a month then and there was still no end to it.  That's how it is with most, if not all, government projects.  They weren't even done with that side yet when they began demolishing our side of the road.  And this is what it looked like:


I talked to one of the workers to spare that small portion in front of our gate until after we move out, as we were scheduled to in about a week's time.  He agreed, and I no longer had to put up this ugly makeshift sign:


But then, the pounding.  Already in a bad mood, I asked why when I told them not to until we move out, which was just two days away.  They had to, the worker said.  I said I already asked them not to a week earlier.  Besides, they could just skip that part in the meantime and move on.

But he was adamant that it was necessary, that they had to demolish it before they move forward.  How are we supposed to carry stuff out of the house then, I asked.  I told them those flimsy wooden pathways won't do.  I don't remember what he was saying but I do remember me shouting already.

They haven't even finished covering up the other side and they want to start another demolition job?  They have effectively closed the entire street already!  Common sense dictates that you should at least leave one side passable.  Those morons!

The other guy - their foreman, I presume - retorted by mumbling stuff that I can't comprehend completely.  All I remember is me shouting and all the neighbors looking out, probably surprised with all the hollering.  In almost three years in that neighborhood, we never mingled with them, and they never heard any noise from us - until now.

You probably think I'm an ass and that those poor workers were just doing their job.  Cut me some slack, will you?  They're doing it poorly and unreasonably slow!  That's taxpayers' money for chrissakes!  And the amount of tax deducted from me every payday is too much, especially when I see nothing in return from this freakin' government.

At work, I blasted Linkin Park through my headphones (I always listen to them when I'm angry; their music relaxes me, I don't know) and no one dared greet me a happy birthday because anger, fury, bad mood, or back off were all probably written all over my face then.  It was only in the afternoon when I started to calm down.  And smile, thanks to MBK.

When we came home that night, good thing they didn't touch that piece.  Otherwise, I would have put back all the concrete and silt into the drainage, effectively blocking it and adding more misery to those workers' already miserable lives.

Happy birthday to me.

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