House de Beaute et Jacque Hammer

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Vanity called my name so I headed down to my local beauty salon. It’s a monthly ritual  I can’t avoid unless I want my head  looking  like a ski field.  It’s a sanctuary from the construction noise surrounding me and the drivers that toot as I walk by.

This is jack hammer city, I’ve heard them daily here for more than two months and woke up to the sound of one at 2am. I ‘m dreaming, I thought to myself, no one uses a jack hammer at this hour. As the sound rattled my fillings and rearranged brain cells, I looked out to see a road crew hammering away. Opening the window I yelled, ‘Shut up! Imshee!’, slammed the window shut, fell back into bed and slept with a pillow over my head. The other night,  Wallace woke me up complaining that the drone of the AC was keeping him awake and he was going to get the night manager to come and hear it for himself.  There I was, 2am-again-half asleep, swaying my way to the kitchen to hide while the night manager checked out the noise.  His solution was to shift us to another room and we’ve  already tried that..I’ve just got to get out of this hotel and out of this neighbourhood. In zombie mode I instinctively started making coffee in the kitchen until Wallace appeared and walked me back to bed muttering, ‘It’s not time for that, it’s still bedtime.’ Still bedtime?  I don’t know what that means any more!

You would think that I would be able to escape and enjoy the sanctuary of  my beauty salon but no, THEY are after me, whoever THEY are, THEY know I’m at the end of my tether so THEY cued a renovation crew in the beauty salon today- replete with electric drills and buzz saws – going through metal- a lot of metal. I tell you, my fillings are on High Alert!

Ah yes, getting your hair done to the shrill of  buzz saws is only eclipsed by moonlighting  jack hammers:

It’s the expat life for me!

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