Decisions, decisions...

I'm not working today and so I was looking forward to a little sleep-in (i.e. I was not planning to witness any part of the morning, and, with any luck, be comatose for half the afternoon too).

Oh, how I did try.

At 7am I was woken by the air conditioner dripping a river of water onto the floor-boards below. I re-positioned a towel under it, which was soaked in no time, and did nothing to muffle the incessant drumming of the deluge. Note to self: call the landlord to fix the bloody thing.

By 7.30am I had managed to snooze just long enough to allow several mosquitos to binge on my exposed knees at the edge of the bed sheet.

By 7.45am I had become insanely focused on the constant drilling, sawing and welding emitted from the construction site next door... a sound that continues all night and day, and that I only manage semi-successfully to ignore at the best of times.

At 8am the Dear Boy gets up for a shower, running late for work.

Suffering an audio onslaught and itchy as hell from the mosquito banquet I realise I have two options:
1. Rupture my own eardrums with a handy chopstick and gnaw off my own legs above the knee,
OR
2. Get up and start the day.

Decisions, decisions...