Song #1 in my head:
Oh simple thing where have you gone/I’m getting old and I need something to rely on/So tell me when/You’re gonna let me in/I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin/And if you have a minute why don’t we go/Talk about it somewhere only we know?/This could be the end of everything/So why don’t we go/Somewhere only we know?
If you could be in my life like you’ve been on my mind/It’d be so easy/Hello, it’s me again/It’s three days now that you’ve been in my dreams/And I don’t know, I guess you’ve just been on my mind/I don’t know, I guess I think about you all the time
‘Cause you and I both loved/What you and I spoke of/And others just read of/Others only read of the love/Oh the love that I love
That’s right, it’s a trifecta of good music rolling around in the empty spaces. Keane, Schuyler Fisk, Jason Mraz; not a bad mental mix tape.
My coworker has officially blamed me for the Brewers’ terrible performances in their last two games. I didn’t know I had such powers from my seat on the living room sofa. Personally, I place the burden on the shoulders of those fellows masquerading as pitchers: Suppan and Parra, and on the less than wise lineup on Monday night. But if I have to take some of the heat on their behalf, so be it. Have to stand by the team.
One of the lights recessed in the ceiling tiles above the reception desk is blinking at annoying intervals. Nothing adds to the office ambience like a flickering flourescent bulb.
Do you know what sounds ideal to me right now? An outdoor movie and an ice cream sundae. What do you think my odds are of experiencing that in the near future? Maybe “Singin’ in the Rain” shown on the side of an old brick building, or the original “Superman” playing at the local drive-in, or “The Natural” on a canvas screen in a park. Yep, I’d be glad for any of those options. Just don’t forget the ice cream.