I used to be a landscaper. Let me start with that. It is an admirable profession. It takes creativity, physical strength, patience, and if you're paying for it, plenty of money. Now there happen to be some very zealous landscapers who work on the complex next to my house. They love weed whackers. I love weed whackers. We all love weed whackers. So, what better to wake up to in the morning that that melodic hum and grind of a 1.5 liter weed whacker engine? It's great.
I don't need my alarm clock. It gets drowned out anyway. And, if I try to be sneaky and sleep in, the weed whackers come closer to my room window to make sure I don't get lazy. Next thing you know, they'll bring me weed-whacked vegetable omelettes. They are so good to me. Sleeping in past 7:20am is just not in my best interest, and they know it. Even if I went to bed only a few short hours before, it's a new DAY! Sunshine! Rise and shine! And look, your neighbor's lawn is nice a groomed for the third time this week.
I know why they're coming over so much too. Pretty soon it will be winter, so they're in overhaul mode during fall to get paid as much as possible even if there really isn't anything worth whacking. That seems only fair. It's not what needs to get done that matters, it's how many times you can trick people into paying you for the same job, as long as they believe its necessary. And I know, they need to feed their little ones, and that's more important than my sleep or state of mind. Bless them.