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Week 33 - Saturday and Sunday Saturday 11th February - Sunday 12th February 2006 What started off as a pretty lovely and relaxing weekend ended quite stressfully, and all because of the selfish b’stards that live in the flat above our’s. I managed to get a nice lie in on Saturday, not getting up until about 9am. Then Hubby and I made a start on the painting of the nursery-to-be. The actual painting of walls etc. doesn’t take too long, it’s the fiddly bits that slow you down – the window ledges and the edges and the sticking of masking tape etc. And the mess is unbelievable, it’s driving me nuts. I have a furious nesting instinct, combined with my natural need for peace and organisation, yet I am having to tip things out of the nursery and onto the floor at various points throughout the flat, it’s excruciating. I can’t wait for everything to be back in order. By the end of the day we had the bulk of the painting done. We spent Saturday night at our friends’ house and had a gorgeous meal followed by gorgeous Krispy Kreme doughnuts and New York vanilla cheesecake. Mmmmmmm! I spent Sunday morning doing a little painting of the skirting boards, but crouching down soon became way too uncomfortable, so I watched The Wedding Date on DVD whilst snuggled under a duvet on the sofa. It was lovely and relaxing. Hubby got back from footie around lunchtime and, just as we were starting to paint the skirting boards the usual banging started from upstairs. They had banged for most of the afternoon on Saturday too, but as we were so busy with painting we ignored it. They had also been banging for all of the previous Saturday…and lets face it, at intermittent weekends and at varying loudness for the past two and a half years. The last time I spoke to them they said they would pop down the next time they were doing some DIY just to warn us that there would be some noise and let us know how long they’d be, which of course they once again hadn’t done. So I hauled my mammoth bulk upstairs and knocked (banged) on their door and asked them how long they would be this time. To my surprise they were really MEAN to me!! They said they were “only fitting a banister” and that they couldn’t believe that it was actually making all that much noise downstairs. I pointed out that they lived in a flat with people below them and that they had no carpet to muffle the sound and OF COURSE it made noise downstairs (did he think I had waddled up the stairs based on a psychic instinct that they were fitting a banister?) and that he was welcome to come down and listen if he didn’t believe me. He declined that offer and said that the sound of banging couldn’t be that bad because (and this is the best bit) he wasn’t using a hammer. Yup. Apparently one can only make banging noises if one is using a hammer. How do you compete with that kind of logic? My voice got a bit quavery as I pointed out that it was our home directly beneath them and that the sound of banging and clattering nearly every weekend was stressful and upsetting. I pointed out that I had always been reasonable with them, that I had never come up and shouted at them and that all we’ve ever asked was for them to just pop down and knock on the door to warn us when they are about to carry out DIY – that way at least we know what they’re doing and how long it’ll be, or we can go out to avoid it. The encounter upset me so much that I cried for an hour, I was still feeling awful when I went to bed and I still feel like crap today. I take things to heart and I absolutely hate conflict so things like this really get to me. I mean, we warn our downstairs neighbour if we’re defrosting the freezer for goodness sake! It’s just the polite thing to do when you’re going to be making a noise when you live in flats. It doesn’t help that I am also feeling highly hormonal and incredibly uncomfortable. The baby seems to have a growth spurt every 24 hours and I am forced to add another thing to the list of things I can no longer do. This weekend I added Bending Over and Sleeping At All to my list. I was pretty much awake all of last night. So I am not a happy soul this morning. Still raw from my encounter with the idiot neighbours, hormonal and emotional, and feeling a little out-of-place with the world and very very tired. Let me know in my guestbook - did I do the right thing going upstairs to speak to them? or am I being an annoying neighbour?
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