Something that living on the second floor of a modernly (okay, that might not be a word) soundproof house on a little bit of a hill set sixty feet back from the street in a ten-ish-year-old neighborhood is that construction, real live construction, happens on houses sometimes. One of the houses across the street is being completely gutted and renovated, and there is some machine making some horrendous noise. I can't blame them—they're only doing their job, their craft—but it's driving me batty this morning. And they were concerned about college kids being raucous...