Dormus interruptus

It's one thing to start awake at about 9:40 a.m. from a dream wherein I was dashing madly for a train, in an impossibly large yet overcrowded MRT station It is quite something else to have my attempt to fall back asleep rudely interrupted by hammering from the flat downstairs.

The flat downstairs, I know, has been undergoing renovations for some weeks now. Usually the noise level is tolerable, except for the three days when they were permitted to carry out demolition works and I had to flee to the library in order to be able to get any work done.

But today is Sunday, so after the hammering continued for more than five minutes, I got up, changed clothes (but did not comb my hair or brush my teeth, so as to indulge the "pissed-off crazy neighbour" appearance), marched downstairs to the flat in question and yelled at the man who was working alone in there. He was at first merely sheepish, so I yelled some more and made sure he understood that if his boss or the owners of the flat were the ones making him work on a Sunday, I would yell at them as well, have no fear.

(My voice cracks a little when I get angry and start yelling. I'm not actually going to cry, but I sound like I am. I suspect it works to my advantage, though I can't summon the effect consciously.)

Then I marched back upstairs and went back to bed. No more hammering. I can't wait till they complete the renovation works (supposedly by the end of June) because all the noise is making Sisu jittery.