About a month and a half ago, we found a notice from our landlord that all of the front doors in our apartment complex were going to be replaced with fancy new titanium doors that would help keep the heat from escaping (the ill fitting old doors weren’t so great about that since most of them had ginormous amounts of space between the bottom of the door and the door frame–our feet would feel breezes, that’s how big the space was).  Will and I are extremely glad for this development since it is supposed to cut down on our heating costs and it doesn’t raise our rent (as far as we know).  So, since we live close to the back of our complex, we’ve spent the last few weeks watching the new door installations get closer and closer to our apartment.

Our new door gets installed tomorrow.  Today, they are working on the doors upstairs.  And? It is loud.  Reeeeeeally reeeeeeeeally loud.  Impossible to work, impossible to nap, impossible to think and impossible to leave since they have the stairwell blocked with their equipment LOUD.

Thankfully, they’re supposed to be done working by four every afternoon so I only have a few more hours of the sawing and scraping and banging and equipment noise and, after that? I’m totally taking a nap.

I am sooooooo tired—the work on the upstairs doors made it impossible to go back to sleep this morning after Will left for school.  If I wasn’t off caffeine I would TOTALLY be making myself some chai right now.  E-gad.

At least I get a new door out of it, right?