Men and their drills

What is it with men and their drills?

No, that isn't a euphemism for their *ahem* goods. Really, I'm talking about drills. Plain old cordless or corded drills.

They're adding a door from the meeting room into the hallway today so that people coming to a meeting don't 'present' themselves at my desk expecting some kind of check in. Great. So banging and crashing and sawing and hammering and oh, you guessed it...drilling.

So because I've built up a fortress around me in my 'cube' I can't actually see these guys - I can only hear them. But this one guy - or maybe it's all of them - seem to walk around incessantly zing-zing-zinging the drill. And no, it's not connected to a screw or a bit that's in the wall making a hole. I know what that sounds like, I've drilled before. No, this drill is in his hand and he's just randomly pushing the trigger to hear it go.

Zing-zing-zing. Zing-zing-zing. ZINNNNNGGGGGG!

BAH! RAGE!