Posts tagged ‘morning’

Cabin of Death under repair.

“Dear tenants, please notw that from the 2nd of May until the 12th of May 2016 this elevator willbe offline, due to maintenance and repair. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

Alright.
I am not burning down the house.
Yet.

I live on the 6th floor, or the 7th if you can’t count right (a.k.a. American), which means on a normal weekday I go down once in the morning, and ideally, up once in the afternoon. If there’s an “emergency” more often in both directions.

This time span includes a weekend, a holiday and a banking holiday. I hope that am all ten days from rhe earliest hour possible, until the latest possible, there will be men (amd women?) laboring hard to improve our technological standard and safety.
Because of not, I will become irked.
And then I will burn shit.
So I leave the house at 6am, there better be a bunch of schmucks greeting me with a smile and greasy faces ready to weld something, including the banking day, and holiday.
Or you turn the darn thing back on during the four day weekend you and your lazy jerkoffs are going to take, now are you?

I know, they will not be turning it on, and I know, they will not be working from 6am till 10pm, but at least I was able to let off some steam…

Take care, and steer clear of elevators…
A.

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Sky impressions from home

No rant this week. Just the beautiful skies I get to see from my home

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Evening.

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Morning.

Enjoy, and take care,
A.

Sunrise

Light oozing over the horizon, starting to light clouds, mountaintops – skyscrapers – long before the first warming rays reach the ground, to replace the haunting cold fogs of night.

Advocates of the dawning day, singing outside the window in the old birch, the dog rose, the old willow – turbulent mixture of songs, cried and carried away by time and space, winds telling of songs sung long past and only now.

Mornings.

Mornings!(?)

How I sometimes loathe mornings.

No longer safely cradled in night’s secure embrace, the pale mono-bosom up there in the sky, round, pale, full of night’s tales – no longer nursing the mind, chased away by morning’s warm and gentle, brightly lit embrace; now there is only room for softly lit, warmed but not warm – reality.

How I sometimes loathe mornings…