Have earplugs, will work

As if I need any help in being distracted at work, a variety of machines have been conspiring against me to make SURE that any actual work accomplished is minimal. Located right outside my office, for instance, is the World's Loudest Printer. It emits a large number of squeaks, groans, coughs, and other noises that defy description, none of which is below 200 decibels. These noises can occur even when the printer is not actively attempting to print anything. Suspicious types might believe that the printer is communicating with the mother ship somewhere.


I don't know about a mother ship, but I do suspect the printer of secretly communicating with the construction workers outside my office window. The construction work produces its own preponderance of loud noises, which are capable of not only destroying eardrums but also rearranging various internal organs. I am sure that my kidneys have changed places with my lungs.


Sometimes loud, continual beeping emits from both the printer and the construction site at the same time. The printer is out of paper, a truck is backing up. Unfortunately the printer and the truck do not beep at the same pitch. If I appear frazzled to anyone during these times, I am sure they will understand the difficulty of NOT appearing frazzled when caught between beeping in B flat, and beeping in A natural.


The printer has been serviced many times, which only seems to increase its capacity for producing loud, guttural noises. It also increases the likelihood that something else will go wrong with it. At one point it refused to print in blue ink. Soon after being serviced for that, a taped sign appeared on the printer advising users thus: "To print in any color, go to 3rd floor."


I am sure that Benjamin Franklin, were he making observations about the habits and moral characteristics of his fellow man, would say something wise about this situation. Like, "She who endures cacophony outside herself will learn to delight in inward silence." Although that may have been the advice of a recent fortune cookie I opened.


There is not much hope of either source of noise ending anytime soon. The printer cannot be moved. The building is far from being finished. Besides, something else would just take their place. So I have made my peace at least with the printer. But it is an uneasy peace. Someday, my co-workers may find a sign taped to my door: "To work in quiet, went to 3rd floor."