Tonight I am back on night work, and he's still building. Now, the spooky thing about my neighbour is that he seems to know exactly when I am going to lie down for a nap. He'll give me no more than five minutes, and then the hammering starts. Like clockwork. Normally I'd be disturbed by the possibility that this is some sort of Truman Show/evil psychological experiment, or intrigued by the possibility that I somehow have the ability to control the universe, but I'm too tired. Instead, I'll hunt down my earplugs, have a sleep, and think back to those happy days when my tree landed on his roof.
(Meanwhile, how fantastic is that house? I kind of want to live in it. My roommates would be hobbits, alchemists, and possibly the Weasley family.)