One of the electricians is singing at the top of his lungs. He's downstairs so the lyrics are muffled and I don't recognize the song because he can't carry a tune in a bucket. His aria is broken up by the racket of the sawsall and the vermin-in-the-walls scratching from the wires being pulled. I do admire his exuberance and joie de vivre.
Friday, August 26, 2016
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