…We Now Return to Your Previously Scheduled Melancholia
It’s Sunday evening, which means I am melancholy. And Todd’s going out of town for almost 2 weeks, and that means I am a bit forlorn. And it’s almost my birthday, which means that I am likely on my way to a full-on refuse-to-get-out-of-bed bout of mehateworld depression.
However, it’s also storming with some gorgeously ear-cracking thunder outside, and it’s cool here and the fan’s blowing on me. It’s quiet and the laundry’s all done. My whole world doesn’t seem completely askew, and I spent the weekend listening to nothing but Weepies, Steve Tannen and Deb Talan. (ordering the back-albums from their solo careers=one more birthday gift to me from me.)
(Oooh, that’s really rumbly out there.)
Anyway, my head’s all full of good lyrics and what MyTodd™ would call “that folksy crap music.” It makes me feel peaceful and not alone, and I am pretty OK with that.
G’night.
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