Nelson Galaxy

Arrrggghhhh!!!!
Arrrggghhhgghhh!!!!!
Arrarrgghhhghhhhhh!!!gh!!!   ug

I have not slept for the last two nights. I feel sick and have started hallucinating. My temper is now so short that if anyone so much as smells me I’ll have ‘em. Oh boy, pumped up on caffeine and sugar I think my eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. Boy oh and indeed boy.

Why this sorry state of affairs? Have I been out and about on some cocaine fuelled celeb jaunt? Heck no.

Authorities in Tower Hamlets have put their heads together and made the unprecedented decision to resurface the A11. Maybe the road needs it. This work is being carried out overnight – all well and good for the traffic but for residents on the Stepney stretch this is turning into a complete waking nightmare.

From eight pm until six am the night is sound tracked by pneumatic drills, steamrollers, beeping machines, tractors, cutting devices, a massive frightening scrapping vehicle and 50 shouting hollering workmen, all happily playing their tarmac laying games directly outside my bedroom window.

The volume is so high and booming that my flat shakes, television is unwatchable and reading is impossible. Lying on my bed listening to this incessant cacophony for hours on end I calm myself by saying it will all be over soon. I attempted sleeping in the bath, the only room not overlooking the road, but it was very uncomfortable and a ceiling leak was making me very damp.

Leaving my flat this morning, hearing non-existent voices in my head and seeing invisible things out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that only five yards of road had been resurfaced. Joyously I realised the same will happen tonight and the next night. I am considering sleeping in the office . . . . or murder.