26 February 2011
IT’S like a scene from a comedy skit. But true and too precious not to share.
I’m visiting a leading hypnotherapist. Sitting here because I can’t cope. The neighbours are renovating. Each morning, before I open my eyes and remember to be horrified by all the things I need to do, the drilling has commenced, through a common wall and into my ear. Smash, crash, bang, bang.
It’s only a few months since my other neighbour renovated, and another across the street. My nerves are shot. I need something to help me think positive thoughts or even just be able to function, working at home with that racket. The clatter of the city can become excruciating. Living close to the sea, we attract backpackers who sleep in their vans on my street. They yell and play music outside my bedroom window. They urinate, or worse, on the lawn. Continue Reading →
