Invading Hordes
I woke up this morning to rather ominous thumping directly over my head. It sounds as if large men and machines will be falling through the roof and onto my bed in a matter of moments. They're repaving (yes, this appears to actually be what they're doing) the roof, which involves a lot of scraping and stomping directly above my head. The air smells like burning pitch. My first impulse was to flee, even though I have no where to go and I should be dissertation writing. I can't really work in a coffee shop or library because my back seizes up if I try to sit for longer than 45 minutes, and it takes at least that long for me to get focused on writing and to become actually productive. So I packed up a couple of books and I'm going somewhere, to avoid the noise and the smell of my apartment. Fortunately, they're not parked in the driveway today like they were yesterday, so at least I can get my car out. Maybe I'll go shopping and spend some of the gift cards I got for Christmas. The Barbiarians have won - they're driven me out.