Woke up at 2 a.m. to the buzz of a chainsaw somewhere outside my window.
"The fan?" I posited, and tried to drift off, but no, there it was again, the angry metallic whine.
Got up in my sweats, put on shoes and a baseball cap (to cover my disheveled hair*) and went outside to circumnavigate the complex, hoping to outflank any potential madmen.
By the pool, I saw a guy - also in sweats - walking toward me.
I gesture, palms up, "what the hell?"
"They're trimming the trees," he said.
"At 2 am? Here?!"
"Across the street," he pointed.
We walked over, and there they were, 3 big trucks w/cherry pickers, lights flashing, spaced out along the street against the opposite block.
We stood there, complaining, and threatened to call... somebody; but they'd apparently finished with the saws, so we shook hands and parted company.
Back at the apartment, couldn't sleep so I fire up Netflix & there's Bill Pullman doing his shifty eyed detective bit for 'The Sinner' which I really like, and now I'm fully awake, watching a show about a guy who can't sleep.
I notice his grizzled white beard, and hairstyle, identical to my own, and I think, "Jesus, is that what I look like?"
If you have to ask.
*You don't want to reconnoiter for madmen with hair sticking straight up, as you might be mistaken for one.
