More Messes in Miami

So they've been doing some major construction along my little street for the past four or five days. Yesterday they moved quite close to our house on the corner and I figured there would be a giant hole in the ground in front of the house when I got home from work. When I pulled in, however, they hadn't passed our drive yet, so I parked there, thinking they either wouldn't be working the next morning, or they'd start a little later.

Silly me...

At 6:45 in the morning, I awoke to the dulcet tones of a giant backhoe (see lovely photo above) digging its claws into the pavement. I looked out the window, which is right above my bed, and saw that they had moved even closer to the drive and they had placed this massive concrete block over part of the driveway, making my exit a sticky one. (See below photo).

So I jumped out of my warm bed and threw some sweats on, slipped into my Birkenstocks and ran outdoors to move my car to the side of the house so that I wasn't stuck in my home the whole weekend. Being half asleep, I misjudged the distance between me and the concrete block, and ran my tire right into the corner, slitting it open. Fortunately, the kind gentleman at Goodyear in Hialeah told me that it was just a "flesh wound" and I should be able to drive around on it with no problem.

Be that as it may, I am still incredulous at being woken up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday by a group of loud mouthed guys digging out a storm sewer ditch. The street is mucky, these idiots are running around in shorts and tank tops, no hard hats, with cigars sticking out of their mouths while they climb down inside these holes and help guide three ton concrete blocks into their proper resting places. In the meantime, they've knocked down several branches off of the tree you see in these two pictures and don't seem to care.

It's not that I mind them having to do construction work. Having been through Wilma, I certainly understand the importance of having a working storm sewer. It just seems that this loud, obnoxious, inconvenient bit of stuff is simply the latest in a large pile of straw being laid atop this camel that is my existence in Miami.

My nerves are shot here. I am experience more road rage, eating more junk food and complaining more under my breath than I ever have in the past. I am slowly beginning to think that this city is toxic. Toxic for me anyway. Getting out of here will do me a world of good.