Sleep is as elusive as fairy lights in the fog shrouded moors when one is jet lagged and overtired. It is even more elusive when there is a small army of bull dozers leveling the empty lot next door at 3am.
It doesn’t help that my bedroom window opens in the direction of all this exuberant bulldozing and that the workers are feeling the need to shout out a conversation over the sound of the machines just to keep things interesting.
Maybe they have some sort of reverse Cinderella thing going on: they must start work at the stroke of midnight or else the bulldozers will turn into pumpkins.
It’s 4:09am now and they are still at it.
This ‘vacation’ is turning out quite interesting indeed…