Silence IS Golden

I am a very good sleeper. I can and usually do sleep through anything – dogs barking; thunderstorms; rain on my face; really anything. Imagine my shock and amazement when early Monday morning I awoke at 5am with the impending feeling that a noise had wrestled me from my glorious sleep cocoon. I listened desperately trying to hear what dreadful noise could have created such an unusual state of awareness during the time of day I consider my best sleeping time. Nothing. I could hear nothing out of the ordinary. I could just make out the deep breathing of a sleeping soul (usual). I could hear the ticking of the clocks (usual). I could hear the gentle snore of an oversized pup (usual). I shifted, I turned, I tossed and finally settled back in to the warmth. I began to drift, oh so gently back into the peaceful slumber of one who is a very good sleeper. Then it occurred. The most descriptive term I have found is hideous buzzing!

Monday morning was the day after Super Bowl. We had hosted a Super Bowl party, just a few friends. Following the party, all the pups had ended up in one room (nothing short of a miracle). I knew if I got out of bed to try to locate the sound everyone would be up and ready to start their day (they are ALL morning people – go figure). Just as I decided to risk an attempt to find the source of the hideous buzzing, it stopped. Maybe, I could make it back to sleep before it re-occurred. A mere eight minutes later – BUZZZZZZZZ. By this time, I only had 20 minutes before I was supposed to be up anyway. I crept out of bed and slinked out of the bedroom on my dogged hunt. It stopped.

I gathered the big dogs and we climbed in bed to a few minutes of snuggle time before I truly had to begin the day. Soon the television would announce a new day. Robin Meade would tell me the news I needed to know in the few minutes before the pups would demand to be fed and walked. And there it was, the buzz. I leapt from the bed and rushed about trying my best to find the root of this hideous buzz. It was not to be.

I fed and walked the dogs, I had my first cup of coffee; and read my over night updates via e-mail. I took my shower, got myself dressed and prepared for the day. I updated my twitter and facebook and completed my morning routine, all the while taking breaks to search for the source of the buzzing.

The buzz came at irregular intervals. There was no pattern that I could discern. Because I work from an office in my house, I was not afforded freedom from the Buzz when my workday began. It continued to haunt me. I would, at the buzzes whim, jump up from my appointed tasks to run down the hall in an attempt to locate the source. I eventually narrowed it to the kitchen and finally to the refrigerator. I found that if I could run down the hall quick enough and bang on the side of the refrigerator it would stop but most often it had stopped before I was able to propel myself into position.

I finally succumbed to the buzz. It had won. I just ignored it. If it was the dying breaths of overwrought refrigerator then I would let it die a lonely death and sadly replace it (with stainless).

While preparing dinner that evening, Jenn opened the freezer and noticed that the icemaker (which is unattached to water – long story for another day) had been placed in the make ice position. She mused that maybe this was the basis for our buzz. I was sure she was completely wrong. However, I encouraged her to test her theory in a scientific manor (“flip the little bar and see what happens”).

I almost miss the buzz. It was my constant companion for a day. It accompanied me for a day. It challenged me for a day. Most importantly, the little devil made me look bad forever. I am plotting revenge.

About Gayle

Gayle is a Social Media Enthusiast and Consultant with Biz Buzz Social Media Marketing; co-owner of Glynne's Soaps; a dalmatian rescuer; genealogist and member of the Daughters of the Revolution (DAR) and of the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC); a Cubs Fanatic; hopeful bagpiper; purveyor of positive; and a curious seeker of life.
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