For the second morning in a row, an industrial-sized wood-chipper has been grinding away at full blast less than 50 feet away from our bedroom windows. At six thirty in the morning. On a week day.

What. The. Fuck.

I have problems sleeping as it is. I stay up late because I work late, often not getting home until almost three in the morning. That is one aspect of working late I don’t like. I am required, as part of my job, to try and work around an awful late-night bus schedule. An hour and a half to get home after getting off at one thirty in the morning. The actual bus ride is only fifteen minutes.

I don’t care if you are paying a hundred dollars an hour to rent the damn thing, you have no right starting that early in the morning in a residential zone.

We can hear it on Basia’s baby monitor!