Peace and Quiet

(NOTE: Most of this post was written around 2AM Saturday night, and you'll realize why once you keep reading.)

I find the title of this post highly ironic, as whenever I want peace and quiet, it never happens...and yet when I don't, everything is silent.

Case in point: this morning.

It was 63 degrees outside and cloudy/windy. It felt wonderful. I know this because at 6AM, I walked down to the mailbox to mail out my Amazon credit card bill. It was a Saturday morning, there wasn't a soul out and about in the neighborhood, and it was really, really beautiful. I appreciate this kind of weather -- it's good sleeping weather. Not as good as say, ten degrees cooler with misting rain, but it's good. I liked it.

I talked to Daisy a bit after she got off work this morning, around 8AM, before getting ready to go back to bed myself. Again, my sleeping schedule is weird during the summer. Both of the past two days I've been awake before 7AM, and that hasn't happened since I was still in school. A month ago. It's because I've been going to bed at weird hours, but whatever. This morning it was nice, it was cool, and I wanted to go back to sleep because I was tired.

Just as I was getting ready to go back downstairs around 9AM or so, I heard a rumbling. Well, really, it was a droning noise more than anything else. I turned off my fans and it was a very clear drone of an engine idling. Really close to my back window, as if someone had landed a plane in my back yard or pulled a Mack truck up to my back porch.

I looked out and my landlord is out there, on a full-size tractor with a full scoop of soil in it, and he is driving around the back yard on my neighbors' side.

...what the fuck, man?

It was 9AM on a Saturday morning.

9AM on a Saturday morning is similar, to me, as to 8AM on a Sunday morning -- nobody in their right mind is awake at 9AM on a Saturday morning. Not since the late 80s/early 90s has there been a reason to be awake on a Saturday morning, and even then it was only for the cartoons.

So there I was, eyes bloodshot and awake, with my landlord doing something loudly involving a tractor and dirt to the back patio of my neighbors on the other side of my duplex.

I should probably mention here that over the past year or so, my neighbors -- a man, his wife, and his teenage son, who all work at Walmart -- have asked me when they occasionally see me if there are any cracks in the walls or foundation of the house on my side, since their side is developing a lot of those issues. My side is fine; aside from the normal hairline crack or two in the cement of the foundation at the back of the garage (which is normal, to be expected, and isn't new -- I've been living here for four years now), nothing's happening on my side. My house isn't settling, my house isn't cracking or creaking, nothing. I'm here almost 24/7, and there's literally nothing like that going on in my place.

Looking for something to do to kill some time, because I couldn't fall asleep with the landlord back there being loud with the tractor, I went downstairs and brought up all of my folded laundry and put it away. While I was doing so, I heard the two men talking on the back patio; my landlord was saying something about how that should fix the problem, and that he'd come back at some point later to trim the tree in the backyard that was hanging waaaay far over the fence line into our grass. He loaded the tractor onto a trailer attached to his truck (which was parked outside, directly in front of my mailbox) and then...disappeared.

Okay. I don't know where he went or what he was doing, but the truck/tractor were still parked outside, which meant he was still working on the neighbors' place somewhere. Mind you, my landlord and his wife both adore me; I've been praised numerous times for always paying my rent early and always contacting them ASAP if there's something that needed to be done, and aside from those aforementioned neighbors on the other side of me, I'm probably the quietest, most mild-mannered person he rents to, one who is very rarely seen outside of the house. Yet I always get apprehensive when the landlord is around. He's a good guy, but after one incident where I woke up in my bed and he was standing five feet behind me working on the air conditioner in my basement (he didn't think anyone was home), I'm always a bit apprehensive that I'm going to wake up and find him in my house working on something.

Granted, that wasn't his fault, really, but still. This was like three years ago, when my ex had gone to visit her parents for the weekend, and before I had my own car, so it appeared that the house was empty at the time. Still traumatized me a bit, though.

Anyway. His truck sat outside for another hour. I didn't want to go to sleep in case he came knocking on my door for something as soon as I actually drifted off, so I got dressed and planned my trip over to the discount grocery store. It was Saturday morning, it was early, so I figured if I was going to be awake, I might as well get that out of the way. When I left, he was back behind the house again for something involving the dirt he'd dumped/shoveled in to fill, and in the beautiful morning weather, I took the car over to the discount grocery store.

I ended up spending a whopping $15 there. They didn't have a lot I was interested in this time around; that place is usually pretty hit or miss. When they have a lot, I've been known to spend about $100 there. I got some snack-like stuff, including some beef sticks (5 for $1, and they gave me some awful heartburn), some cherry Kool-Aid, and some tempura batter mix, amongst a few other small things, and to kill a little more time, I smoked a cigarette in the car in the parking lot when I left. While I was out, I could've gotten gas in the car, but I forgot to take the mower's gas can with me, which meant I would have to make another explicit trip for that eventually as well -- so I chose against it, even though I have the money to do so. The card I use to get gas with is the one I paid off this morning. I drove back home, narrowly missing getting held up in traffic waiting for a train to pass through town, and pulled back into my driveway. The landlord's truck was still there. I pulled up as close as I could to the garage door because of the storms predicted to hit this evening and in the overnight hours, and did it incredibly precisely -- I left about an inch of space between my bumper and the garage door. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done it that close without actually bumping up against the garage door (something I've done on more than one occasion). I took the groceries inside and put them away, and ten minutes later glanced out the window to see that my landlord had left. I didn't see him come back for the rest of the day.

Finally, I thought, I can sleep.

I went downstairs to sleep, where it was cool and quiet. By this time it was after noon, and it took me a bit to fall asleep, but I finally did around 2 or so.

Whatever happened throughout the rest of the day, I didn't know about it; I was dead to the world from then until nightfall, when I was oh-so-rudely awakened by an incredibly loud rolling boom of thunder, one that was so sudden and so loud that it scared the cats off the bed. It was 8:30PM, though it may as well have been 2AM due to how dark it was. I looked out the front window when I got up to pee, and it was pouring rain. Good, I thought. Hopefully that will keep the weather cool. I went back to bed, but the thunder and lightning was loud and frequent -- I could not fall back asleep. Pete kept headbutting me in the face, as if he was trying to get me to get up and make the noise stop. Finally, after drifting in and out of half-sleep for another hour or so, I got up and came upstairs....and the storm promptly stopped when I did.

Seriously?

It was as if the storm had fired up to wake me up and for no other purpose whatsoever. As soon as I was awake, it was gone. I looked at the radar and all of it had moved off to the east. Wow, so that's what that big "severe storms" threat was? A normal, fairly weak thunderstorm that lasted an hour? Hoo boy. There would be a little more thunder and lightning a bit later, but nothing that would last for more than another five minutes or so.

Flash forward to Sunday afternoon, and I can now tell the rest of the story.

I was still not feeling that well (fucking beef sticks), so I told Daisy, who was at work, that I was going to try to play a game for a bit and then see if I could go back to sleep and get some more rest. I'd only slept for a few hours before the storms rolled in. I did this, of course, and was still not feeling well. I talked to Daisy off and on for a bit before starting this post, abandoning it about halfway through, and tried to go back to bed -- which, finally, I was successfully able to do. I didn't wake up until 2PM, and then felt much worse than I did before.

I don't know exactly what's wrong with me; I thought it was the heartburn caused by the beef sticks I ate, but I'm not sure that's what it is. I just feel all weak and ill, and my allergies are killing me (it's 85 outside and somewhat muggy, and there's barely a breeze going, which makes my allergies awful after it's stormed the night before). I know it's a stomach thing, because the thought of eating anything makes me feel queasy. Couple that with the heat and allergies, and it's a recipe for feeling awful.

I had stressful dreams while I slept; they're generally the closest things I have to nightmares that aren't actual nightmares. I had stressful dreams about finding jobs, about being forced to pay back my student loans, about the car breaking down, etc. All of these things linger in my subconscious, apparently, until I go to sleep -- yet while I am awake it is incredibly hard to force myself to deal with them...any of them. I can't do anything about them anyway, of course -- if the car breaks down, it breaks down, and I don't have the money to repair it. I have to live on the money I have now, and there's no "extra funds" in that for car repairs. I also can't force a company to hire me, and I can't magically win the lottery and pay back all of the student loans at once. All I can do is to keep getting up every day and keep trying to move forward and be productive, or at least do something that seems to be somewhat productive. Some days I'm successful at this, other days I'm not. Really, it heavily depends on the day and how I'm feeling. Some days it's an accomplishment just to eat something and take a shower.

Of course, in saying this, I will acknowledge that I haven't showered since Friday.

The neighbors had a new air conditioner installed a few weeks ago. I know this because the one they have now is different than the one they had before (logic, nurrrr) and they've been running it nearly nonstop for the past month. They're not smokers, and they rarely have their windows open. I have yet to turn mine on, and dread doing so. I've mentioned before that the summer is expensive, and a lot of that expense comes from two things: my car insurance bill and the need to run the air conditioner if I don't want to cook. It's supposed to be 95 tomorrow and 97 on Tuesday. Could I seal up the house tomorrow morning and run the air conditioner for a few hours to cool it down in here? Yes, yes I could, if I wanted to immediately add $15 or so to my electric bill for little real coolness (it would maybe take the house temperature down ten degrees at most, and only for a short time). I've ran the air conditioner for 12 hours straight before, and it was still 90 upstairs in the living room (I have a wall thermometer). Most of the time it's really not worth it.

It has gone up in temperature by four degrees in my room over the past three hours. 

It figures that a month ago it was snowing and I was wearing layers shortly before finals week because otherwise I would freeze. Again, proof that there's no such thing as "spring" in Kansas -- it goes directly from nut-numbing winter to "everything's on fire" summer.

I got an email from my dad this morning, thanking me for his early Father's Day gift, which was this. I'm glad he liked it. Being a nerd myself, I definitely know how to shop for fellow nerds. This is partially why, at times, it is so frustrating to shop for Daisy; she is not nerdy at all. But it is also why I know it will be extremely easy to shop for our children, because they will be. Our anniversary is coming up, as well as her birthday, and I really have no clue what to get or do for her. She mentioned before that she may go to Kansas City for her birthday with her best friend (whom I know, of course).

"Have fun with that trip," I said, before she could invite me. "I have no desire to set foot in the state of Missouri ever again."

This is true; I have nothing but horrible, bitter memories of that state and of living there for three years. I'm not a fan of Kansas, either, but I have many more reasons for my hate of Missouri, reasons that will likely persist until I die.

So, I don't know if we'll have any plans or not. I know that she wants us to be together on July 4th, and has told me as much (I'd wanted us to be together on the 4th anyhow), but we don't yet know what that will entail. I told her if possible, that would be a good few days to go to Omaha again, so that I can avoid the redneck deluge of illegal fireworks every white-trash neighbor and their brother lights off in my neighborhood for six to eight hours straight, despite city ordinances forbidding them to do so. If I'm stuck here at the house over the 4th and have to deal with that again, I might call the police to do a drive-through of the neighborhood to shut it down. I'm so not kidding about that, especially when these people tend to light off the big, booming professional fireworks that rain down sparks and fire, and their kids shoot roman candles at cars. Fuck those people, seriously. Actually, I almost want to be able to be home on the 4th so that I can do that.

Again, I'm not a crotchety old man. I like living here because of the peace and quiet I had until all of these white-trash neighbors moved in all around me, each of them with at least two loud, uncontrollable screaming kids. Granted, one group of them has since moved out, but that's totally not enough. It was always so quiet before. I hate commotion, I hate noise, but more than that I hate people. Especially uncultured, loud people.

I wanted to order pizza, as mentioned before, and got the incentive to do so yesterday -- Papa John's sent out an emailed code that will give you 50% off your order. Okay, I thought, combined with what I usually get, that should cut the cost of a massive order of pizza about $40 or so down to $20. That's a good deal. So I applied the code and found that it doesn't work with any of their "special offers," like their 3 medium 3-toppings for $21. It only applies to stuff purchased at full price, and even if you're getting other stuff at full price, it won't cut the cost of those in half. Yeah, sorry, the code is worthless to me then. Your large pizzas are $15 or more, Papa John's. Screw that. I could get three large pizzas at Little Caesar's for $15, and I don't have to wait on delivery people or tip those guys. So, once more, I decided against getting any pizza.

I have to go out either tonight or tomorrow night anyway; the cats are (again) almost out of litter, and while I have food, coffee, and cigarettes for the time being, they do need their litter -- that's not something I can put off unless I want the entire downstairs of the house to smell like cat pee, since once their litter is used up completely, there's nothing left to stop that glorious scent from permeating the entire bedroom and laundry room. If I want pizza badly enough, I'll get a frozen pizza and give the proverbial finger to all of the pizza places out here.