Working in the architecture industry, I'm pretty used to construction site activity and noise; but every now and then something will surprise me. Today I decided to go to a coffee house to get some more writing work off of my "to do" list, and as I was leaving my apartment, I was surprised to hear the hammering noise on the construction site across the street from my building... On Labor Day! I guess I really shouldn't be surprised though. Construction practices and sound ordinances where I live are very different than what I'm used to experiencing back east. (I won't say that they're like that in the entire Midwest, since I don't
know that for sure, but I do know that the sound ordinances where I live are VERY different from where I used to live.) What I mean by that is that last year, when they started developing the complex across the street from my apartment, I discovered that contractors are allowed to make noise in a residential area as early as 6 a.m., not 7 a.m. like where I lived out east. To make it worse, I discovered that fact the hard way...
My bedroom window overlooks the entrance to the construction site (seen in the above photo). When the contractors were first excavating the site and getting ready to pour the foundations, the tractor-trailers that were bringing in the supplies at 6 a.m. would blast their air-horn to let others around them know that they were entering the site. Of course, since they were backing into the site, guess which way those air-horns were facing... You got it, my bedroom window! I had just gotten used to finally being able to sleep at night without my earplugs (the benefits of living in a very remote area); and then out of nowhere I got the lovely shock of being woken up by air-horns being blasted at 6 a.m. Ugh! That's when I called the non-emergency police number and found that the noise ordinance allowed noise at 6 a.m. Let's just say that air-horns, truck reverse "beeps" and other construction site noises were a frequent occurrence over the next several months, until they started to work on the buildings on the far end of the site.
What's worse is that I'm used to contractors only working on the site during the normal work week (M-F), because contractors didn't want to have to pay their subs overtime for weekend work. Not where I live... The contractors building the new apartment complex across the street work seven days a week. (Yes, as religious as people are out here, they even are hammering away on Sundays and holidays too!) That is such
What's worse is that I'm used to contractors only working on the site during the normal work week (M-F), because contractors didn't want to have to pay their subs overtime for weekend work. Not where I live... The contractors building the new apartment complex across the street work seven days a week. (Yes, as religious as people are out here, they even are hammering away on Sundays and holidays too!) That is such
an unusual concept for me. I've had contractors out east give me a hard time aiming lights at 9 p.m., which is how long I had to wait for the sun to go down in the late summertime. It also surprises me that they don't use nail guns with these wood-frame buildings, which would be faster than the manual hammering I hear at the construction site across the street. I guess whatever works for them...
So, after pondering how "dedicated" these contractors are for working on a national holiday, (and believe me... this wasn't a one-time event. I remember them hammering away on the Fourth of July too!), I headed over to one of the local coffee shops I like to frequent when working on my writing. I was surprised at how busy it was today. (As you can tell by the photo, it was a gorgeous day without a single cloud in the sky.) Most of the tables next to outlets were already taken, but I was able to snag my favorite table by the door, where I could sit with my back to all the other patrons. I put my laptop bag on the tables and headed to place my order at the counter.
While I waited on line, I noticed that there were two women who seemed to be looking for a place to sit and kept eyeing the tables where I put my bag. They wound up sitting at an adjacent pair of tables in the middle of the room. I felt bad because I noticed one of the women also had a laptop and now she was nowhere near a plug; yet here I was, taking over a four-top table by myself. (Over the years, I noticed that I frequently put myself in the other person's shoes trying to feel what other people may be thinking/feeling in the situation. I'm sure I put thoughts or emotions where there may not be any, but it's just who I am.)
Once I got my food, I started scanning the room to see if there was anywhere else where I could move. I saw a small two-top in the corner, but it was crammed behind a very loud table of four people. There was no way I would've been able to comfortably sit with my back to them (not much room between the tables to squeeze myself into a chair that way). Even if I faced the other way and plugged myself into my loud music to drown out their conversation, I knew I would be too distracted by their active gesturing if they were in my peripheral vision. My second choice "usual" table, that was at the back entrance of the coffee shop, was changed to one of those high-top tables that had a stool with no back. I would've been very happy to sit in the location were it not for the fact that I knew I wouldn't be able to sit comfortably on one of those backless stools for long. The barrista watched me looking around the room and asked if I needed something else. I explained I was trying to see if there was some way I could move a normal, "short" table to the location by the back entrance. I dismissed the idea in my head and went back to the table where my laptop was. I then had another idea and offered to split my two top so that the two women could move closer to the outlet where I was sitting while still giving myself some buffer space. I explained that I felt bad taking the larger table by myself which kept them away from the outlet. As I was talking to the two women though, the barrista said he'd move a short table to the back entrance. He was so nice to do that!
So here I am, updating my blog and thinking about the day's experiences. If I weren't so sensitive and constantly have to be proactive to avoid trigger sensations when I position myself in a public place, maybe I could've gotten away with squishing myself in the corner by the loud group of people. I'm just lucky that the people out here are really understanding, especially after I explain my misophonia sensitivities. I don't know if I would've had the same reaction back when I lived on the east coast.
So, after pondering how "dedicated" these contractors are for working on a national holiday, (and believe me... this wasn't a one-time event. I remember them hammering away on the Fourth of July too!), I headed over to one of the local coffee shops I like to frequent when working on my writing. I was surprised at how busy it was today. (As you can tell by the photo, it was a gorgeous day without a single cloud in the sky.) Most of the tables next to outlets were already taken, but I was able to snag my favorite table by the door, where I could sit with my back to all the other patrons. I put my laptop bag on the tables and headed to place my order at the counter.
While I waited on line, I noticed that there were two women who seemed to be looking for a place to sit and kept eyeing the tables where I put my bag. They wound up sitting at an adjacent pair of tables in the middle of the room. I felt bad because I noticed one of the women also had a laptop and now she was nowhere near a plug; yet here I was, taking over a four-top table by myself. (Over the years, I noticed that I frequently put myself in the other person's shoes trying to feel what other people may be thinking/feeling in the situation. I'm sure I put thoughts or emotions where there may not be any, but it's just who I am.)
Once I got my food, I started scanning the room to see if there was anywhere else where I could move. I saw a small two-top in the corner, but it was crammed behind a very loud table of four people. There was no way I would've been able to comfortably sit with my back to them (not much room between the tables to squeeze myself into a chair that way). Even if I faced the other way and plugged myself into my loud music to drown out their conversation, I knew I would be too distracted by their active gesturing if they were in my peripheral vision. My second choice "usual" table, that was at the back entrance of the coffee shop, was changed to one of those high-top tables that had a stool with no back. I would've been very happy to sit in the location were it not for the fact that I knew I wouldn't be able to sit comfortably on one of those backless stools for long. The barrista watched me looking around the room and asked if I needed something else. I explained I was trying to see if there was some way I could move a normal, "short" table to the location by the back entrance. I dismissed the idea in my head and went back to the table where my laptop was. I then had another idea and offered to split my two top so that the two women could move closer to the outlet where I was sitting while still giving myself some buffer space. I explained that I felt bad taking the larger table by myself which kept them away from the outlet. As I was talking to the two women though, the barrista said he'd move a short table to the back entrance. He was so nice to do that!
So here I am, updating my blog and thinking about the day's experiences. If I weren't so sensitive and constantly have to be proactive to avoid trigger sensations when I position myself in a public place, maybe I could've gotten away with squishing myself in the corner by the loud group of people. I'm just lucky that the people out here are really understanding, especially after I explain my misophonia sensitivities. I don't know if I would've had the same reaction back when I lived on the east coast.
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