The drum beating in my head...

...actually isn't in my head at all. No, the drum I've been hearing intermittently for a week is located directly over my head, backstage of the auditorium on the second floor. It seems that space is tight in the music building, and someone had the brilliant idea to relocate the loudest, most disruptive instrument to storage space above my office. And thus a classroom is born.

Today I managed to catch the professor and find out the whole, awful truth. He was a very nice guy, a symphony member and adjunct faculty. He's not happy about being exiled to a dusty, spider-infested corner of campus with no phone or computer. His students are supposed to practice 5 hours a week outside of class. With 10 students, that makes a total of 50 hours a week that there will be drumming. Some percentage of that will take place during work hours.

I find the whole thing too absurd to fathom. Is it unreasonable for me to ask that I work in an environment where there is not a drum kit 8 feet from my head? The answer I've heard so far is there's just no other place to put the drums, and academics come first. Sound tiles and carpet reportedly are on their way, but how much good can that do when the drums are 8 fucking feet away from my head? It seems if one is expected to work productively, it is reasonable to require a minimally supportive environment, which would include NO DRUMS NEAR MY HEAD.

But I've said all there is to be said about it.

My weekend included some time with friends, which was nice. It also included the memorial service for one of my favorite professors. Even though I knew she was dying, my impression is still mostly one of disbelief. That, and helplessness. I don't even know her family well enough to really help out, to do anything substantive like visiting. They are a private, closeknit little nest, and it seems it would do more harm than good to intrude on that.

At least Katrina is gone. The wind pulsed on and on for hours Monday night. It was hard to believe there could be such a quantity of wind. It kept me awake, and I wondered if the giant oak in the front yard would hold out. But aside from the worry, the wind was just loud. No major damage here, though--just lots of premature fallen leave and little sticks and branches. We were incredibly lucky.