“Silencio por favor!”

I can remember my 9th grade Spanish teacher, Señora Schaefer, calling this out in her calm, soothing voice over the hum of restless gossiping teenagers in her classroom. This morning I have the urge to announce it over the paging system at my office in a less pleasant manner than my dear teacher ever would have. I’m a little fried this week.

I’m generally a pretty talkative person. I’m not great at making conversation with people I don’t know well, but those in the inner circle of my life usually get an earful. My brain is typically running about 3 trains of thought at once (if not more) so the urge to spit it all out tends to overwhelm me, and the verbal vomit begins. But sometimes, I just need a little silence. Today is definitely one of those days.

I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to listen, I just want a little peace. Judging by the flashing red voicemail button on my phone, I fear I may not get my wish. I think some of this is a hazard of my profession. Five days a week I’m subject to any number of requests from a handful of bosses and about 130 other employees. Sometimes the sight of yet another random person standing at my door wanting me to do something for them makes me want to crawl under my desk. But you see, my office is a big glass box with open blinds, so someone might notice something was up and then I’d be committed, and then how would we pay our bills, and if we can’t pay the bills what will happen to my sweet little puppies? So I guess that settles it.

Bring it on Friday, I have puppies to feed.
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