Jessica came to me last night with her brand new mp3 player in hand. "Um, Mom?" ... and I know what is coming next. Mom, it's broken. Mom, it's doing something wonky. Mom, I have a problem with my mp3 player. Well, with how OFTEN that thing is ON I bet you wore it out in less than a month. In fact, I'd put money on that.
I tried to figure out what she did. It power cycles up with the welcome, and then seems to reboot and go through the power cycle over and over. I emailed SanDisk and they told me to reformat it. I did. It seemed to work perfectly with 3 test songs on the thing. I should have left it at that. I reloaded all her music.
Now. It won't power on at all.
I'm late for work now, because I know my daughter is addicted to this thing and it keeps her sane. She went to walk to the bus this morning and asked me for her old one, which she handed down to me.
Um. It's at my desk in the office.
Sorry.
So she was very very sad. I can't say as I blame her.
The mp3 player she gave me is keeping me sane at my desk. Our office has grown to be one of the single noisiest places on earth rivaling that of Logan Airport at highest take-off traffic time.
I can't concentrate, I can't get any work done -- but little ole mp3 buddy helps me block out all the discussions that people feel they need to have over the top of my cubicle. I turn it up to 30.
I will be deaf by November.
If I didn't have it, I'd storm out of the office and go home. I'm sure of it. I'm getting incredibly worn out with all the commotion. And I'm afraid I'm going to make a catastrophic error because of my inability to concentrate. I don't have ADD, but let me tell you, I know how Geoff feels now. I totally understand. This mp3 player is my ritalin.
Thing is, my situation can be solved without medication very easily, but I won't go there.
I'm reluctant to go into the office today because I'm just so tired of noise. I am weary. Or as Elliott Smith sings so sweetly "I'm tired. I'm tired" in Waltz #2.
In other news all my bitching about office noise aside - Annie needs your prayers. Mojo, good vibes, whatever you can spare. A couple of weeks ago, her husband left her. And now her daughter, one of three (nieces and a nephew) whom she brought in to live with her as when her own sister died in 1996, has Cystic Fibrosis. She received lung nodes from family members last year. But right now -- it's looking grim. She's in hospital, and Annie's only note requests prayer for Natalie at this time because she is dying.
My mp3 problems are minor inconveniences. My noisy office is something I can easily embrace and cope with.
Anyway -- I am off to the office. This entry was started at 7am and now I just have to upload it and get going. The truck is pre-heated. The dog is fed. Let the day begin.
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