“Bang, bang, on the door baby
I can’t hear you!”
– “Love Shack” by the B52s
We’ve been having construction for the past six to eight centuries or so it seems. That’s because the roof of the library where I work (it is not a love shack, sadly) has been leaking since the 1970s, when it was built. So now they are fixing it. No, for reals this time. They are doing something anyway. Like whacking with what sounds like Thor’s hammer, and using buzzsaws, and stomping (possibly hopping up and down in work boots). We can even hear them talking. Of course, that might be because they have actually made holes in the ceiling while . . . fixing the holes in the roof.
My coworker J and I are waiting in our office / storage room for the roof to fall in on top of us. Or one of the workers to fall through the roof. Or their tools. Or the roof, the worker, and the tools. It’s slightly disconcerting, to say the least. We have a hard hat up here, but only one, which means too bad for J! Actually no, I’m not wearing it either because that one’s even harder to explain away than the massive head set I’ve got on. I thought they were headphones, but turns out to find them on Amazon you have to look under ear muffs, which I thought were a totally different thing.
Cause I am buying some of these for myself. That’s because there are only two of these in the building. Congrats – two people can save their hearing! I am one of them because I borrowed them from downstairs. I am sensitive to most noise, like staplers, especially the way some people (lookin’ at you J) use their staplers (ka-bam!). So construction is like the atom bomb.
When I first borrowed the ear muffs, the workers decided to take a break. Sort of like when you get the fly swatter, and suddenly there are no more flies. But I found I liked them because they blocked out the noise of the heater which part of the time is on iceberg cold no matter the season, my typing, and other sounds I never realized were going on (people breathing, etc). It’s like I’m in my own little happy cave. Yes, I can hear voices – or at least know when someone is talking so I can take them off and help them. (darn patrons!)
This, in turn, calms some of my constant free-floating anxiety. At least until the construction starts up again. I can still hear that, but it’s not quite as excruciating. You’d think after two infants and years of a Sony Walkman (if you don’t know what this is, shut up) turned way up that I’d have lost enough hearing already, but apparently not. Nope, my senses are better than ever! I also get colder than other people, and I smell stuff no one else smells, and I am allergic to the planet. Maybe in cave man days I might have survived lions sneaking up on me, but then I’d have gone insane from the cicadas while trying to listen for possible lion feet.
In the jungle, the mighty jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
He’s up, he’s up, go run!
Oh false alarm. I’m safe here.
I think someone is cutting through the ceiling again.
Talk to you later.