Two weeks ago I came home from work to find signs saying that my parking lot would be closed for a week, starting immediately, for repaving. There hadn’t been any notice. The lot was still full of cars, mind you, because there hadn’t been any notice.
The next day, the sign had been changed to show paving for the following week, and there was a notice slipped under all of our doors. Repairs to a water main. Runs under the lot. Won’t affect water to your unit. Please don’t park in the lot during the week of April 23-28.
So all that week, as requested, I parked in the less-convenient lot across the street, while a fat lot of nothing happened.
On Monday? Nothing.
On Tuesday? Yellow flags went up, as if someone had scoped out the work. OK, that’s almost like progress.
On Wednesday? Nothing.
Friday? You guessed it: Nothing.
Perfect. Well, at least the weather was nice all week, as long as I needed to haul myself that much farther to get to and from my car.
So here it is the following week. The week after the work was to be done.
And on Monday, I went to swing into the lot, and then swung back out, because it was partially dug up and full of equipment awaiting the next day of work. Well, we’re a day late and a dollar short, but at least we got started.
But on Tuesday, it rained.
And on Wednesday morning, it rained.
And on Thursday, it rained.
And this dreary Friday morning? Rain.
It’s starting to look like we might get all the rain we’ve needed up to this point in the year, spread out over each and every day for the rest of the year. (Sigh) We need the rain. The rain is a good thing. Really it is.
But NOTHING is getting done on this project when it rains.
Which means my minor inconvenience is just slightly more (soggily) inconvenient.
And I am so frustrated knowing that if they’d done the work when they said they were going to, which happened to be a beautiful, clear week, this would be done and over… and instead there is simply no end in sight.