Oh My Word!!! It's worse than nails on a chalkboard!!!
Usually it happens on Friday, which makes the situation worse because I'm the only one here. But this week they decided to make it Monday. I'm trying to do my job which mainly consists of utilizing music, media, reading, and the creative process in general. I CAN'T DO THAT WHILE THEY VACUUM OUTSIDE MY DOOR WITH THE LOUDEST VACUUM CLEANER MADE IN 1976!!!
Visions from my childhood flash before my eyes of my crazy mother who used to open our doors at 9:00 AM on Saturdays and vacuum our rooms while we tried to sleep. It wasn't really that our rooms needed to be vacuumed it was a battle of wills. We thought we should get to sleep in on Saturdays. She felt that there was some kind of magic barrier that prevented the house from being cleaned past noon. She wanted us to get up at 8 AM and help her clean the house. My brother and I didn't mind doing house work or yard work. We just wanted to do it well rested.
When I moved to a ground floor apartment in Hannibal I was fortunate enough to live below a woman who worked the night shift. I thought this was awesome. If I threw a party, she was at work and wouldn't complain and stomp on the floor to tell us to "pipe down." I thought I had it made until the first time she vacuumed her floor (my bedroom ceiling) at 6 AM on Saturday morning when she got home from work. She did this every Saturday like clockwork.
And so here I sit in my office barely able to concentrate enough to write this as our sweet old janitors vacuum the hallway outside my office. I tried closing my door on Fridays and they act like they are offended. Like my being annoyed by the vacuum is really me being annoyed by them. But at least today the whole staff gets to enjoy this. Usually on Fridays its just me. I just sit here thinking "There is no way vacuuming the hall takes this long!" I keep expecting to walk out of my office and just see four or five vacuum cleaners sitting outside my door turned on.
I don't know what it is but THAT SOUND makes me climb the walls.
This Sucks like a Hoover
If All Else Fails...
I spend a lot of time at the drive-thru at Taco Bell. I'm not sure if this is more a reflection of the frequency of my visits or more a reflection of the service. This particular evening I found myself at a Taco Bell that was clearly having issues inside. I feel I can safely assume this because it took the woman in front of me ten minutes to order one taco. It was one of those visits when you wait for so long you just put the car in park. I finally get up to the window and this poor frazzled man asks me if I want any taco sauce. No. I can tell that he is more than a little stressed as he hands me my drink. Then doesn't remember which drink he gave me and asks me to "test" it to see if it is, in fact, Pepsi. After I confirm the drink he asks me what kind of taco sauce I said that I wanted. Nothing. He hands me the three items I ordered all bagged separately in there very own sacks. "I'm sorry, did you want any taco sauce, " he sighs. No. No Taco Sauce. He then seems to move on to the next thing and is puzzled as to why I'm still there. As he slid the window open I handed him my money and he says, "oh yeah, right." Then of course, as he hands me my change he says, "Did you want any sauce?"
As I drove away I had to wonder about that man. He was clearly 55 or older, and it didn't seem like he had been doing that job very long. I had to wonder what life choices bring you to Taco Bell at the age of 55. Has he never really moved past that in his life? Has he been flipping burgers for 40 years? Or did he have a job that got replaced by a machine? Should he have gone to Computer Based Learning Center to adapt to the job market? Was he just laid off early so the company could screw him out of retirement? Did he loose his job because of Alzheimer's?
On the one hand, I want to admire him for having the humility to get what ever job he could to make ends meet for his family... On the other hand I pity him for working fast food his whole life and not planning ahead...
My reaction... I eat my taco. With no sauce.
I guess I always struggle with my idea of success. I bump into people I went to high school with and they are working at a gas station, or delivering pizzas and I don't want to think I'm better than they are, but at the same time I can't help but feel sorry for them that they aren't doing something... more.
May become itchy and irritated...
I think I might give up on talking on the phone for a while. I feel like I would get more done and be less irritated. Honestly, how many five minute phone calls do you get during the day that are four minutes too long. Sometimes I get 30 minute phone calls at work that are 29 minutes too long. I go through this all the time (mostly with women). You just end up on the phone talking about NOTHING. And not in the cool, fun way like when you talk to the person you love about nothing for hours... really I'm on the phone with people and nothing is really being discussed.
Example: Someone will call me at work to inform me of some information that has changed about an event. They call me so I can change the announcements. This should take 30 seconds. "Hey, I was just calling to say that the event will be 4PM instead of 3:59PM." "Okay, I will make the change." click.
But what really happens is they take me on the 15 minute journey of why they made that decision. "Well I woke up and after talking it over with Becky... oh by the way Becky had this really funny joke... oh I can't remember it... we laughed really hard... anyway, so we were thinking about the time the event started and... oh I almost remembered what she said... Oh, it was right there... oh well... so" At this point I am flipping a coin to decide if I should hang myself with the phone chord or simply bang my head against the desk until I blackout.
Today, I pull up to the gym I go to and my mom calls on the phone. "Hey are you at work?" "No, I'm at the gym." "Oh, I'm trying to get a hold of Patti (my secretary)... she isn't with you?" "No mom, Patti didn't come with me to the gym (sigh)." "Oh right... well I was just going to get a pedicure and I thought that if Patti was a work..." I cut her off "Mom, I'm AT THE GYM. Are you going to tell me a narration of your thoughts on why you want to get a hold of my secretary of whom I have no idea of her whereabouts and your line up for the rest of your night?" "(laugh) yes" "I love you mom, but" click.
I find myself on the phone almost all day screaming inside "i don't care. I don't care. I DON"T care. I DON'T CARE! GET TO THE POINT!"
So I think if I just decide that I don't take phone calls I can stop this. People can just leave a message with the information, no story needed. It's funny, I don't have this reaction when people are there in the flesh, just on the phone.