Today is Friday. Glorious, glorious Friday! To make things even better, it's 66 degrees outside, and one of my bosses is away, leaving Seth and I to our own devices. What a relaxing day.
The morning passes into the afternoon with ease. I love days like this! Seth is keeping to himself in his office, and I am working hard (read: g-chatting with Kathryn and Mariella, bbming with Heidi) at my desk.
I should've known better than to be so smug in my lazy day...
I am reading a recap of last night's American Idol on Gawker when suddenly, and with no warning,
clip.
clip.
CLIP.
My blood freezes. My stomach churns. My face burns in indignation.
Seth. Is clipping. His fingernails.
Unfortunately, I am very sensitive to noises. Not in that they are extra loud to me, but that I am severely intolerant of annoying noises like gum snapping, the slosh of saliva mixing with food being chewed in a mouth that is open (or even closed. it's a terrible affliction inherited from my father) or when someone repeatedly sniffs huge snotballs up their nose and down their throat (get a freaking tissue and blow that shit out!)
I wish I weren't so affected by the noises created by others. Especially when stuck in a stalled subway car with one or all of them together. But I can't help it, and it makes my blood boil until I want to scream in outrage: "SHUT UP!!" or "CHEW WITH YOUR MOUTH CLSOED!!" or "STOP SNAPPING YOUR GUM, IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID!!(something my father used to say to me. But I realized, he's right. People snapping their gum and chomping on it with their mouths open DO look less intelligent)." But I never say these things of course.
As I mentioned, I know I am this way thanks to my father. As a child, I could be eating an apple in my bedroom with the door clsoed and music on, and he would shout from the garage: "STOP CRUNCHING ON THAT APPLE!!" (of course, once he determined that I also hated eating noises, he intentionally chewed loudly and with his mouth open whenever around me. My father the two-year old. He really is a great guy though. Hi Dad!! Love you!)
At the time I thought he was a crazy person, as many of my friends now think of me. But now I understand. I wish I weren't so sensitive to these noises, as it makes movies torturous with the horse-like chewing of popcorn all around, and I LOVE going to movies! But, it is what it is.
The sound of a nail clipper anywhere outside of the home drives me BONKERS. And it being Seth who is creating this noise only adds insult to injury.
There he sits, clip, clip, cliping away. Each clip is like an explosion, and I picture his fingernails flying into the air in slow-mo like the debris from the bomb in the beginning of The Hurt Locker.
Where is it landing?? On the floor? On his desk?? It is Friday, when the cleaning people come. Is that why he's doing this now? Cause he knows the cleaning people will take care of it?? RUDE!
Finally, the clipping explosions cease, as does my silent hyperventhilating. Peace can now be restored in the territory of---
CLIP!
AAGGHH!! There's more??
Oh, the humanity!!
CLIP!
Three times I nearly stick my head out to his line-of-sight to say incredulously, "Are you CLIPPING your NAILS?!"
But I can't. Why? Because even though I am in agony, I don't want to embarrass Seth. Or myself. The Midwest in me says, "Just ignore it, it will go away!"
But all I want to do, is go over there and slam his door shut!
As Kathryn says in alliance, "There is a time and a place for that and it's not at work..."
If only I could get her in here to tell Seth that.
