I am at the office, it’s 5.05 and most of the staff have hiked off for the day. I can hear the aircon humming and the occasional voice but basically it is quiet.
That has to be one of my favourite states.
My shrink once described to me the notion of skinlessness. It is something that Spike Milligan referred to as part of the lot of the creative human. An unnatural sensitivity to the world. Heightend senses, if you will.
I am over sensitive to noise. If I don’t get time out at various intervals I get all sorts of aggravated… Seriously. I never really thought of it being part of my nature as someone creative. But there you have it. I am skinless… what can you do?
It’s a good excuse I guess. A good reason for being so cranky when I have exceeded the limit of my tolerance for hearing people eat (the most irritating noise in deeleea’s universe). It’s an excuse I can throw at Flick when she comes home all abounce with news of the day and all she gets out of me is a baleful stare…
Sometimes I feel like such a bitch. I have moments when all I want to say is “It isn’t your fault you’re irritating me… but you are… could you stop talking please?… Thanks.” Some days it’s worse than others. Some days I’m tired, stressed or premenstrual.
But most of the time you wouldn’t even know… my own private hell. Chirpy on the outside and seething within.
Thank God for my Precious. My very own personal noise filter. It replaces one noise with noise of another kind but I can live with Nik Kershaw and Coldplay in my ears.