Even I admit this is odd.

The building next door is undergoing intense renovation to convert it from a (I’m guessing) former factory/warehouse to (sure about this) multiple dwellings. The notice tacked up in our elevator warns that the first part of the process will be the noisiest.

Because, jackhammers.

In parts of Britain, they’re referred to as “Kangos.” It’s a brand name, apparently, and isn’t it adorable?

Because, obviously, the sonic effect of jackhammers is not.

But here’s the thing. It’s making me get shit done.

This morning, before coffee even, I manually removed myself from a catalog mailing list. Meaning, I did a live-chat with Maureen who promised it would happen within the next three months. I feel a kinship with Maureen. She’s on my side.

Normally, I would have griped about suddenly finding myself on the list for this wretched catalog (non-wrinkle travel dresses, foldable hats) but thanks to the jackhammers, I took action.

I’ve been “under” the “weather” for the past two weeks, so this feels major.

C just came over to show me what you can get on Groupon for eight bucks: a bluetooth selfie button.

It can be challenging not to just pull on the cloak of misanthropy and point a gnarled finger of accusation at the stupid world.

But back to productivity!

There is a brief lull in the hammering so C heads into the booth to record. I am suddenly in a writerly way, so we’ll see what that yields.

I’m not sure if this is a true pattern or not, but so far, jackhammers = G.S.D.

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