Sheesh. It's almost 1pm and I just realized I haven't posted today. I've been running non-stop since 8am and was reading other people's blogs when it occurred to me that I haven't shared today. My apologies. :)
I was about to write a little more on my editing, or that lack of editing that has happened in the past couple days (I wasn't home yesterday), when something in the parking lot set me off. When we first moved into our condo, the development company had an office on the first floor and there was always work going on. One of the workers does metal work (for bars on windows, etc) and is always welding, banging, and occasionally, spray painting. White bars don't just magically appear, and the steady hum of the air compressor was a constant for almost a year.
After the first week of painting, we realized there was a thin layer of white paint on our car. You can imagine how happy Ibis was when he discovered that. We had turpentine in the house from when we first moved in, and fortunately that removed most of it, but it became a never-ending battle. Ibis told the worker to please let us know if he'd be painting so we could move the car. He does the work at the same end as our unit so quite often we were the closet car. That solution seemed to work, but every now and then he'd forget and the car would be a touch whiter.
A few months ago, the work was finished and the developers left, taking all the junk from the parking lot with them. We rejoiced until we realized we no longer had a way to get out mail (the office used to accept it for us) and they never painted the yellow lines in the parking lot. Relatively minor things, but still important, especially since we haven't received mail in three months. I just bring an old bill to the phone company at the beginning of the month to pay, and the electric bill is attached to our meter. Who needs more than that?
In the past couple weeks, the metal guy has returned. I'm assuming more units have sold and therefore more people needs bars, etc, put on their units. The banging has been obnoxious but I'd gotten used to it before, so I can get used to it again. BUT - today, just as I was about to write this post, I heard the compressor. Meaning he's painting.
I bolted out the door and slammed it really loud so he'd hopefully hear and see me coming, but he never looked up. There is only one other car in the lot and he KNOWS which one is ours AND he saw me earlier and knew that I was home. But could he be bothered to yell up here so I could move the car? NO. He went ahead and started painting. I didn't notice he was painting until the fumes made it to the fourth floor (I tend to tune out the noise) so by then the car already had a nice coat over the layer of dust. Nice.
Here's a picture of him painting.
I already moved the car, but the X is where it was parked when he started. Some people...