Listen to the Music

Today we're getting a new roof. I put up with the banging for two hours, and then the hammering started, and I had to leave before my fledgling headache turned into something significant. Besides, my coworkers didn't want to talk to me anymore because the pounding was loud enough to hear over the phone.

So now I'm at the coffee shop, and I enjoyed about 15 minutes of extremely productive work, until a few notes on the radio jogged my memory, and now I am engulfed in the soundtrack of 1993. Apparently I had a lot of time in middle school to memorize lyrics, because I have been able to sing every word to every song played in the last half hour. It started with From A Distance, which took me a few seconds to remember (it's been 15 years, after all, and I wish it could have been longer), but since I had the sheet music to that song back in 6th grade, I not only knew every word, but all the accompaniment as well. So I was doomed. I finally just gave up trying to tune it out and sang along, figuring when it was done, I'd be ok, but then that was followed by Listen to the Music, which reminded me of my inability to ever tell if that was CCR or Doobie Brothers, and the ridicule I got for that from a certain Narth, and then that was followed by Phil Collins' rendition of Groovy Kind of Love, which we sang in high school choir, then Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden, which desperately left me wishing for a new beginning, and now we're on to Place Called Kokomo by the Beach Boys, which I particularly loved to listen to on the juke box at the Pizza Barn... Agh!! And this isn't someone's terrible joke of a mix tape either. This is an honest to goodness radio station called the Blend, which I hope I never hear again.

Clearly I need a new new location for work. Woah woah, listen to the music. Woah woah, listen to the music. All the t-i-i-ime..................