I got to the office today at 6:55. It just worked out that way. They’re building an office building on the neighboring lot. I can see it perfectly from my window. At exactly seven o’clock, the migrant workers start pounding some metal with sledgehammers with absolutely hellish noise. The tea in my mug was practically rippling. I can only imagine how sweetly the residents of the neighboring apartment buildings are sleeping. And, by the way, of course none of the workers are wearing hard hats. Then we act surprised when Tajiks are found under bushes with their skulls smashed in. Like, “another skinhead attack.” I’m going to file a complaint—let the contractors get nailed for it.