The kids have been home for DAYS because of the snow. My routine…what’s a routine?
The bloodmobile is close by at a local church. I’m going. I’ll honor my decision to donate as often as possible.
It’s four o’clock. I hope I’m ahead of all the people who plan to donate after work.
I’m here. The parking lot is not too full; good. I have my book and I’m ready to step into the trailer, shut off my brain, ignore all of what’s going on around me, and read in between all the administration I have to go through. The actual donation should take ten minutes or so, and I’ll have a snack afterwards. I should be able to rest, read, and enjoy my respite from the house and children. Right?
I step into the trailer and I hear music - loud music! For a split second, I wonder if I’ve stepped into the wrong trailer; this must be the place to complete the sign in. The comfy chair in the quiet, serene atmosphere must be inside the church.
No, I’m in the right place.
“Okay Anita, you can do this. You can tune out the thump, thump, thump. Read a page. Get into the story. It’s a good book. Or maybe, just try to enjoy the music. Pretend you’re dancing around the house with the kids.”
Not happening. I’m annoyed. I’m wondering why CLUB MUSIC is playing at a place where people need to be relaxed. Do I tell them to turn it down? Will my blood pressure rise after they all look at me incredulously; this “uppity $#&!%” or “old lady” trying to tell us what to do?
I try reading again.
It’s my turn to be seated for the donation. I’m directed to one of the four lounging chairs and as I sit back, the blaring of the music is louder. I turn slightly to see that the embedded wall speaker is right next to my head!
I’m just on the verge of saying something when I’m moved to another seat because my right arm is not cooperating.
“Just take it Anita. Put down your book. Listen to the technicians talk to the each other, and to the jovial man on the other chair. You need to relax so the process will end quickly.”
Okay, I’ll admit it - I’ve gotten old…I guess. The women and the one man in the trailer appear to be in their thirties through forty. I wonder if this is uncomfortable for me because of my age. But, on the other hand, I hear loud music occasionally and it doesn't bother me; just not in the confines of a trailer.
As I think more, I’m back to it being more bothersome than not. Weddings can be challenging. Seems it’s okay when you’re dancing, but when you’re trying to talk to your dinner partner who is sitting right beside you and you still have to scream at each other…
Do I write a letter to complain? Do I risk taking away the pleasure they may be feeling as they endure their monotonous eight hour day? Hmmm… Probably not. So I didn’t get my half hour of vegging. I’ll get it later.
Does loud music bother you?
After you leave your thoughts on this post, page down to the previous post and tell us about your present and/or past jobs. And read some of the comments too. Good stuff!