While we stay at home and dream of a time when we can hug our friends and sink a pint in a nearby pub, not everyone is sticking to the rules.
We got woken up at 1am this morning by screaming out on the street. Our apartment building is set way back from the street, so the noise had to be pretty loud for us to wake up.
A group of drunk girls were roaring abuse at each other and the various neighbours who popped our on the balconies to see who was being skinned alive. A passing car slowed and the driver suggested they go home – so they did the only sensible thing and threw a bottle at the car.
Eventually, the police turned up and, due to the direction they were all walking, they guided them into our car park to ‘have words’ with them. It was another twenty minutes of roaring and then crying before the squad car left, but it left without the girls. Who then proceeded to start roaring at the top of their voices and hurl abuse at the sky once more.
As a result, I was awake until after 3am this morning. Ugh.
Today has been all about the caffeine and the anger management. I feel like I could go postal on the next person who steps out of line (not really), but sleep deprivation has move definitely taken its toll. There’s pretty much no chance of an afternoon nap, owing to the horrendous noise coming from the building site across the street.
Which, by the way, has been reported to the police by several residents – there’s absolutely no social distancing going on there either. I know it’s not my responsibility, so I’m trying to ignore it. But seriously, are you really a key worker if your job is to dig up the pavement in front of yet another tower of over-priced Canary Wharf apartments?
Onwards and upwards to tomorrow…