My office building is being repainted this week. Actually, it's being repainted this month; if there has ever been a situation calling for the expression "too many cooks", choosing new exterior colors for an architecture office is it. The painters had to put on extra coats of primer to cover up the dozen test swatches we required to decide between Goldenrod and Sunglow.
With colors finally chosen, the painters are sanding today. They've already sanded the far end of the building, and the back side facing the main street, so now there's nowhere to go but right around our front door. The power sanders make a grinding, buzzing noise that I imagine is a lot like having your head tattooed. It's reminiscent of the dentist's office when you haven't been the all-brushing, all-flossing superstar that you should have been. It's an all-consuming noise that bypasses the brain and embeds itself in some kind of primal Buzzing Center, where it is somehow both ignored and inescapable.
What I'm trying to say is that that's why I found myself buzzing under my breath just now while working on an accounting summary. "Bzzzzzzz minus 23 hours for bidding vvzzhzhhzhzzzhzhhhh but I put those in already vvvvvvvvv 15 hours for drafting vvvjjhhjhjhjhzzzzz... oh. What?"Posted by dianna at September 27, 2005 04:09 PM