Day 18There are a few things that are nice...no alarm clock, no rushing, no traffic, no fellow commuters, no fluorescent office lights, no bosses, no coworkers, etcetera, etcetera.
But there are also quite a few irritating things that really become noticeable only when you spend virtually all hours of everyday at home. At least in my home.
- The fridge buzzes a lot. Sometimes non-stop for up to 15 minutes at a shot. I've read it's the condenser coils that need cleaning, but I've cleaned them and they're pretty much dust free, but the sounds continue on, and on, and on.
- The ceiling fan is a very nice Hunter model with pewter accents and a frosted-glass light shade tastefully veined to give the impression of alabaster. I think it's one of the splurges the landlord made when renovating this structure, probably a few years ago, to become an apartment. But it has just a slight noise it makes when the blades are spinning. Just a slight rasp with each revolution. Not off balance and not noticeable anytime unless it's really quiet, and your mind has nothing else to focus on.
- When I cook at the built-in electric hotplates, I have to wear an oven mitt or use hand towels, otherwise I'll sometimes get a slight shock. Not all the time, just sometimes. And not a freakin' tazer-level shock, just a zap, slightly stronger and more enduring than a static shock. I wonder what causes it. I wonder if one day it will just suddenly decide to supply the full 110V and instead of frying some chicken, I end up frying myself.
- Them! Just as horrific as the classic sci-fi flick (well, not really) but just a lot smaller. Ants. They don't just walk in under the door or from other wider cracks and crevices, they make their own way. They burrow in. I find not only gangs of them popping up everywhere, but the dirt mounds they create as they make my house a new extension of their underground colony. Luckily, they're only the really tiny (and I mean very tiny, almost undetectable) species and they tend to sprout up only as a result of my own fault, like if I drop a small piece of food on the floor and don't pick it up. I guess I could look on the bright side and see them as a natural Roomba.
- My landlord's old grey dog will bark for hours when it gets lonely. Thankfully it's from deep within his rather large house and being on the cooler side his and my windows are closed. But I can still hear her if I listen.
- That fucking train. In the warm months I can just barely hear it's wail since the air is thicker and more humid and I think the conductors hold up a little at night on the horn. But during the day in the cooler months...oh man! They must be hangin' on that chain for dear life (or whatever it is they manipulate to blare their horn). The RR crossing is about 1000 feet away, but with nothing between it and me but a nice flat lake, it sure can resonate.