During the past year or so, I’ve taken to listening to much angrier music than I have in the past. I’m not talking about angsty-Beethoven angry, I’m talking about loud guitars with folks screaming lyrics angry. Today on my commute, I had my radio going pretty loud when I wondered what I was doing. Was I singing along? Screaming along? Some sort of hybrid? Scringing? Sireaming? I’m sure there is a word for that.
All I know is that hooting along with loud music while drinking my coffee concoction isn’t something I can do comfortably on the bus. Hmm. Although that’s exactly the sort of behavior that guarantees no one would sit next to me. It would also guarantee that the people in neighboring seats would exchange nervous looks. Hmm. Options…
Moral of today’s story: Dear toes, thank you for waking up in the middle of the night because you were chilly under flannel sheets and two comforters while the heater was on. In the future, toes, try and be like the rest of my body and just admit that there is absolutely no reason to be chilly in these conditions.
An Erinku:
My big sneeze
answered
by silence.
I bless myself.
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