It’s been a difficult week.
The scaffolding’s reached my floor. It’s strange to see people standing outside of my window. On the eighth, you get used to privacy. Walking into a room and coming face to face with someone is a shock.
But they have moved on up. Next they will be encapsulating us in the blue plastic. Everything will be dingy and blue.
I’m told that the worse part is when the drilling starts, eight hours a day, five days a week. I don’t know weather I’ll be able to work.
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