It wasn't exactly nature's soothing sounds. I tried to sit down and read a book while the gardeners were here today, but the droning of weed trimmers and lawnmowers wouldn't allow me that escape. There were two machines going all day, at two different pitches, and the combination made my brain rattle. (And it's usually so quiet in there.)
When they showed up at 10:30 this morning I'd already been working for an hour. That's because the phone rang at 9:30. All the typing I'd done yesterday was wrong, because the Boss and his fellow nitpickers had forgotten a factor or a multiplier or some such arcane nonsense.
To be honest, I didn't even read what I was typing last night because it made little sense to me. When I know what they're trying to say, I try to edit as I go along. Otherwise I just leave their mistakes in, knowing that I'll end up retyping every page eleven times anyway.
Nobody is ever satisfied with the early drafts, and there are so many people with so many different ideas that it doesn't make sense for me to look for my own meaning in any of it.
But the kicker this time is that they knew. Last night, fairly early, the Boss knew that this letter had some major problems. Julie told me this morning that he wouldn't let her see it then because he wanted to go out to dinner. So she got the task of calling me early this morning and asking if I'd be available to do more typing today. What could I say, no?
So I spent most of my day typing to the whine of garden machinery. By mid afternoon my head was aching from the combination of steady noise and flying grasses. I kept the windows and doors shut all day, trying to avoid the swirling weeds, but it didn't help much. It'll turn out to be worth it, once I stop sneezing. That moment of relief hasn't arrived yet.