The Sounds of Silence.

One of the great things about blogging is how quiet it is. Even if I'm using a desktop with a fan that makes a nerve-rattling humming noise, mostly that's all I hear--that and the occasional woodpecker-like burst of rapid typing or some lackadaisical clicking sounds.

In vivid contrast with yesterday, when two contractors, each vying for the exciting money-making-like-unto-setting-up-one's-own-private-mint job of renovating the basement of the Poppy's house, tearing off the ugly-ass attached garage, adding a two-story addition, and building a new garage.

I didn't realize, when I scheduled these appointments back-to-back, that these guys would be making a pitch for our business. And they wouldn't just talk about construction and design issues; no, like other salesmen, they'd start talking about their families and the local school system and the Red Sox and the 1972 MG they unearthed in a client's garage and MY GOD WOULD THEY PLEASE. JUST. SHUT. UP.

After FOUR HOURS of this non-stop blathering, I managed to shoo the second guy out of the house. I then informed That Stud Muffin I Married that in my opinion, conversation seemed, at the moment, a bit extraneous:

Poppy (closing the door): Thank God he's gone. Why do these guys go on and on like that?
TSMPM: He really seemed to want our business.
Poppy: Well, fine. But honestly, my ears are running blood. I need to sit down and drink some tea and check my email or something. Anything that doesn't involve talking.
TSMPM: Good idea. (Pause) Want me to cook dinner?
Poppy (her voice rising rapidly to an ear-splitting scream): I thought I told you to shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!

Can you believe he cooked dinner anyway?

Me neither.