"Fuck you and your mother."
"This shit don't work."
"Don't fuck with me in this heat!"
That's pretty much what I've listened to this past week. The building next door is having its roof replaced and the construction workers' conversations are....let's just say it's good no children are present.
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The neighbor's roof in its original glory
Hammers pounding. Saws cutting. Debris flying. Amidst the yelling and crashing around me I started to feel sad.
From my window I've seen our neighbor's roof every day.
The light gray shingles were familiar, unchanging....almost soothing to the eye. Ornate yet simple. Vintage and old-fashioned (much like the original owner who lived 'til her mid-90's and died about a year-and-a-half-ago).
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Devastated and made bare
It reminds me that nothing remains constant. Seems like everything is changing around me but I'm not. Like I'm falling behind. Stuck. Failing.
I'll be losing my job next month. What if I can't adapt to that? What if I can't change with the changes? How long can I last?
Or am I over analyzing this way too much? We are talking about a roof getting remodeled for God's sake!
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The new roof. How boring and modern!
Nail guns popping. Air compressors whirring. Boards banging.
Of all the "colorful" exchanges between the roofers, my absolute favorite was, "I don't wanna girlfriend. I fuck strippers!"
Classy. Real classy.
Loud, cocky, foul-mouthed construction workers....gotta love 'em. Reminds me of my father.
Some things never change....