My neighbor thinks there's a deranged woman living next door

This is a true confession.

At 430 yesterday afternoon, I was awakened out of a sound sleep by the sounds of a leaf blower. It sounds like a really indecisive person using a chain saw. It's loud. It's obnoxiously uneven. And it's right outside the house, less than 100 feet from the bedroom wall.

Tim had already gotten out of bed, having been awakened by the same noise. And he had been wearing earplugs. There he was sitting despondently in front of the computer with bags under his eyes, already doing his wake-up surfing that he normally does. Only he would have been doing this 3 or 4 hours later. He'd been jolted out of sleep the day before by the sounds of the same neighbor using an air wrench in his garage, and so was already operating on only 3 or 4 hours of sleep.

I tightened the belt on my bathrobe and marched out the front door, barefoot, hair wildly askew and eyes squinting in the harsh afternoon daylight behind my glasses.

I stood there in the lawn for at least 5 minutes, arms crossed. The neighbor either decided not to see me, or just plain didn't see me as he went about his noisy lawn chores. So I marched over to the wood chip-covered berm near the property line, and sat myself right down between the burning bushes, tucked my robe around my legs, and made myself perfectly comfortable.

It was actually a very pleasant day. Mid fifties, an even layer of gray clouds, and the burning bushes have turned the most delightful shade of reddish hot pink. The air was fresh, and as my eyes adjusted to the daylight, it really wasn't bad at all sitting there. I took in the sights of the rest of our little piece of American suburbia, just checking everything out.

After about 10 minutes, the neighbor sees me. I still can't be sure he didn't see me before and only now chose to acknowledge my presence.

"Hi, Kathy"

"Hi, Ralph"

"How are you?"

"Oh, just dandy."

A pause.

"Do you need something?"

"Naw, it was just that I was awake, so I decided to come out and watch the show."

"Sorry. But there are only so many hours in the day."

"Yep-per."

And Ralph turns and continues blowing leaves with his blower, blowing, blowing, and blowing, moving coincidentally so his back is to me so he can move the leaves to the rear of the house. And mowing the grass.

I sat there, enjoying the pleasantness of the day for about 10 more minutes, then vanished like a proper third shift troglodyte back into the house.

Needless to say, any efforts to go back to bed were futile. Once I wake up, that's usually it. And if my hackles are raised, which they were, you can definitely forget it. So I put on my excercise clothes and gave the treadmill and the stationary bike a sweaty pounding.

Now understand that we get along with these neighbors perfectly well. We watch each other's pets, we get together for New Year's Eve parties and any other neighborhood beer-swilling get-togethers, pick up each other's fallen mail items, and we respect each other's property lines. And they are fully aware that we are both working full time third shift, and that once Tim goes back to working afternoons, I will continue to be working full time third shift.

But yesterday, I'd completely had it with everything. Instead of getting on the phone, or marching across the property line, yelling, being accusatory or using four-letter words, I think (?) I got my point across by being slightly screwy.

Yeah, neighbor-o, there indeed are only so many hours in the day. Hours to run all the mundane everyday errands we need to run just like everyone else, maintain an orderly household, take care of our own lawn, AND get some shut-eye. Because we can't get our shut-eye during the night like the rest of the so-called normal world, because we're f***ing working.

I'm guessing Ralph uses a blower to move his leaves because he doesn't want a regular rake, the kind that millions of regular joes use to clear leaves off grass, to damage his lawn. And I'm guessing the loud power equipment is simply a male thing. He just can't help it. He couldn't conceive of not using those things the way a woman couldn't think of giving up chocolate. This is a man who will use a tractor (also very loud in the afternoons) and a blade to deal with ONE inch of snow in the winter. Yes, the days are getting shorter. Daylight is becoming a precious commodity. I bear in mind that this is important to the rest of the so called normal world. And I'm surmising he wanted to get his lawn chores done before going up north for the weekend.

Your lawn looks great, Ralph. Really great. I truly mean that. It's a joy to live next door to such a well-maintained piece of turf, and admire the view out our windows.

But how about this little reality check: Now there are two people, already operating on a sleep-deficit, each taking control of a ton plus of steel, glass and rubber, getting on the road alongside hundreds of other drivers, on their way to jobs where they are both required to handle thousands of pieces of sensitive data and behave in a professional way to everyone, who have just been robbed of two or three more hours of sleep.

Lawn looks beautiful, Ralph. Hats off to ya. Have a great weekend.