I woke up this morning to the banality of jackhammers. Construction crews were tearing up the street, redoing the lousy, lumpy patch job left by the workers who’d replaced our lead water pipes weeks ago. There was a $50 ticket on the hood of my mercifully un-towed rental car — my fault, I’d forgotten about the paper “No Parking” notices.
Next to the car, a lingering pile of trash: the overflow the garbagemen only sometimes deign to pick up. Our neighbors helped themselves to all but one of our city-issued bins a while ago. I’ve called twice for replacements, but other than reference numbers I haven’t received anything in return.
God dammit, DC. This is all a bit much for a Monday morning.