A Few Random Notes
I really don’t like other people humming or singing to themselves. Actually, I’ve known it to be irritating for quite some time, but I’ve realized that the sort of annoyance I’ve reserved for this is beyond that. Somewhat like a buzzing cricket inside your head that won’t go away. But worse. It doesn’t matter if the person is an accomplished singer with perfect pitch or sounds worse than a bleating goat. It doesn’t matter if I’m concentrating on something terribly important or drifting off to lala land.
I don’t hum or sing to myself (I’m too quiet, remember?) but I don’t mind if something like a radio is playing in the background either. The radio, at least, is satisfied to remain in the background and has an off switch. Singing to oneself is too much like overhearing a conversation that’s disguised as one that I’m not supposed to hear. But it’s too loud and intrusive–as if people are shouting “Here I am!” two inches away from my face, demanding attention like whining kids who haven’t had their diapers changed.
I do realize, however, that some people can’t abide silence. There must always be something going on. To them, silence is the equivalence of sensory deprivation. It would drive them mad. But for others, this singing aloud seems like an ingrained habit for attention-seeking and crying wolf.
Maybe my dislikes only shows my inflexibility and lack of tolerance. Or maybe I’m too repressed. But I have never asked anyone to stop singing even as it grated tortuously on my sensibilities.