The woman next to me is blaring country music and trying to drown it out with Ben Harper isn’t working. Mostly because I am too considerate too turn it up too loud and irritate the rest of the office.
Country music does one of two things for me. It either makes me smile uncontrollably (“White Trash Wedding” by the Dixie Chicks or “Sold” by John Michael Montgomery, I know, I know…I am lame.) or it makes me turn into a ball of mush and cry my face off (I’m not even going to list the ones that do that, for fear that I might have to crawl under my desk and sit for the rest of the day in the fetal position). Today, it’s the latter. Almost every song that I have tried to drown out has reminded me of some person or some moment or some time in my life that I try hard not to think about.
“The Mood” hasn’t disappeared, just morphed into another strain of itself. And now I am less bitchy but more…down. I wish I hadn’t managed to destroy my relationship with ZH in such a long, fluid motion. I wish I had more time to see LBG. I wish that JGJ didn’t live so far away. I wish I enjoyed my job. I wish it were Summer and that I’d lost twenty pounds and looked fantastic in my adorable green bikini. I wish pizza didn’t have any calories. I wish I could decide what I want to do with my life. I wish I could take a vacation. I wish I’d had better parents. I wish I had a little more time with my grandmother and that my grandfather had stopped aging and would be around forever. I wish, I wish, I wish.
Mostly, I wish that I could shake “The Mood”…and maybe just that the chick next to me would just change the damn station.
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