Spaniards and their casas

I guess I've already been here long enough to despise and resent its people. I wish somebody would expain to me why these people are so hell bent on repairing every inch of their dwelling.

Sick at home for the second week from a severe case of allergies, I've had to put up with the little tart next door and her smelly hubby repair their fucking bathroom. What is next - the balcony? Or who knows, maybe they will build the world's first teracce (sp?) on the second floor. This is far from an isolated incident and is indicative of a pattern I've been observing since my arrival here. Walk through any of these narrow streets and you'll be hard pressed to find one without the relentless drone of a drill, or a hammer, or a crane. The skyline - of any city, mind you - is bristling with the ubitiqous crane. Really, it should be on their fucking flag.

Ask any of my students what they've been up to lately, and the response will be something about their casa - they are either buying one or repairing one.

I wonder if any of these people know their way to the library. Seriously people, get a book. Get a life.