It’s 12:44 in the morning as I write this. My commute to work is eight hours away. Why am I writing? Because someone it jackhammering on my block. Yes, jackhammering. The sound has been reverberating through my apartment for the last half hour. It woke me up and it will keep me awake, whether the noise continues or not, here I am, frustrated and far from sleep. If you don’t live in New York or if you grew up outside of the city can you imagine having to put up with jackhammering at what is now almost one in the morning? Were people engaged in honking standoffs at three or four?
We cling to so much in our lives. Some of it is for a sense of security — a safety net to protect us from a perceived pain. This can feel good in the short term, but may be hindering our development as opposed to meeting that pain head on, assessing it, and teaching ourselves to move on. Other times we cling to the stresses themselves, holding them and letting them fester in our minds even after they’re gone, as I’m sure to do with this godforsaken rattling of metal on concrete.
I don’t want to be thinking of this when I walk to work a few hours from now. I don’t want to wake up with a feeling of wanting to hurt the first construction worker I see. I know that there must be some reason for them doing this particular job now instead of sometime between 9 and 5. I want to walk with a free mind, maybe take the time to reflect more on this transitional and unprecedented time in our nation’s history. Now that’s something to wrap your mind around and cling to. As for the noise, it actually stopped a few minutes ago and by writing this I think I’m ready to move on.
Oh my God, it just started up again. I can’t believe it. It’s after one in the morning. What a city. I can’t even say.