in my office, i share a room with a scotswoman named lee who has a dog named sprite and studying religion and philosophy. today, she told me in the subtle and mature way that good adults do that my typing bothers her. not when you were using your laptop, you see, but now in that new PC...the keyboard is a bit loose.
i think it began with my writing frenzy last week where as i was writing, with headphones and all, i could sense her agitation, feet drumming and she would really open her filing cabinet with force that i thought something's wrong with her. an occasional side glance but i did not catch her eye so, i ignored it. not more than 30 minutes to my writing, she harriedly packed her bags and gave me a soft but serious, see you later.
i thought about that. that my drumming on the keyboard was a bother. just like now when i am filled to the brim with what to say, i just couldn't stop. like the thrill is there, in the chase between mind and fingers, the fingers always losing the battle of speed and wit and fearlessness.
her approach to me was gradual. yesterday while i was typing, not the write up but notes on a City Hall document, and at the same time, a yell was heard from outside, oh, i just can't concentrate with that noise. it's so contained, so specific. in less than 10 minutes she was gone but in a fairly good mood. today, as i took my chair and opened the pc, we started talking about sprite and concentration and to the type of music i listen to. i said i like classical and rock and my pearl jam's my favorite. how could you do that? she asked but she was unwinding her own white headphones now. i don't know, loud music is just like a wall to me. boxing me in. then wham! to my typing. but for me vitti, it's different. any contained noise bothers me, just like when you're typing...so my typing bothers you?...yeah, but don't worry i have headphones now...oh, sorry i'll keep it light this time...so for the next four hours, i typed my notes like a ballerina.
so, for the first time in my writing life, the frenzy of my writing has become an issue, an externality for someone. will i adjust to her? i feel that i should since we're roommates. i'm not sure how it will affect my writing but i'm reminded of monica seles (the best of all time! better than steffi graf) of how she lost wimbledon to steffi in 1991 (?) because she refrained from grunting, her signature style. okay, i'll find a way. i'll find the way that suits me.