Bad thing about being stopped up and feeling all swirly in the head? Well, for some reason, I become sensitized to noises that most of the time I ignore.
"Such as?"
Glad you asked.
I'm not quite sure, but I strongly believe that the HVAC system in our building (heating, ventilation, and air conditioning) is of a type known as a "variable air volume" type. Basically, you've got air of a relatively constant temperature blowing through the ducts at all times, and there are little motorized dampers inside little boxes all along the way that feed off of a big trunk, and those little dampers are controlled by a thermostat that tells them to either let more air through or constrict the airflow to a particular room or set of rooms, depending on the needs of that particular area.
There's one in the ceiling out in the corridor outside my office.
It's operating right now. How do I know? I can hear it cycling. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, all day long.
It's a tiny little mechanical noise, something almost like a metal cicada--gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri.
Gri-gri-gri.
Gri-gri.
Gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri.
Gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri.
Gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri-gri.
Gri.
Gri-gri-gri-gri-gri.
Gri-gri.
All day long, the tiny little actuator is busily opening and closing its little damper, working hard to ensure that its thermostatic master is completely and utterly satisfied at every single microsecond during the day. Open, close. Close more. Open. Open, open, open, open. CLOSE. Close. Close, close, close. Open. Close. Close. Clo-no, wait, open. Open.
Such things I don't notice so much when my head's not all stopped up.
I must say it's rather on the annoying side.
AARRGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
Can't you get in there with a sledgehammer and belt them to smithereens?
At least that would stop the gri-gri noise.
Posted by: kitchen hand at December 17, 2006 08:58 PMI'd have better luck smashing myself in the head with a sledgehammer.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at December 18, 2006 08:17 AM