Another 12h shift at work today. 12h shifts should be banned. I mean honestly: 12h. Inhumane! (And don’t burst a gut. I know that there are plenty more severe stuff, as far as inhumane go, than 12h shifts in the world. It’s my blog and I’ll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to.) And naturally: today was the day when the climate threat came true on it’s promise and engulfed Sweden in tropical heat. Kind of. Heat and work, equals no good!

You would think that was enough crap for one day.

But nooooo-ooo-oooo… (or maybe yes, the crap I am now about to lay upon you actually happened last night.)

I had a bit of trouble going to sleep yesterday. The tropical heat was starting to roll in, not yet grinning it’s shark like teeth but still to the point where the covers felt like heat blankets. Add to that the complete stillness of humid air.

So, there I was. My thoughts wandering off to weirdness and nearing the piont of sweet dream and relaxation.
Then it began.
The neighbor euro-disco white trash party from hell. Heavy bass drums traveling trough the concrete walls into my head, appearing like little kids jumping on the nerve that when jumped on makes you furious, and when in that state sleeping is impossible. All you can here is the evil pulse of no taste and in the far you can just make out the drunken screams of idiots with alcohol dampened hearing, singing along, screaming along to the worst of the worst of the worst…

Last time I looked at the clock the time was 0110h, I estimate that there was an additional hour of Dunka-Dunka, as we say in Sweden, after that.

At 0510h my alarm clock rang.

Oh joy.