If you are sitting at the kitchen table with the windows open, realizing that the Santa Ana winds have just started blowing, and knowing what this means (as in, that’s why you haven’t been able to breathe through your nose for the past 2 days, and that’s why, when you were making copies of the syllabus for class tomorrow that you started dry-coughing so hard you couldn’t finish your conversation with the other people waiting in line for the copy machine), and you are eating a chile & cheese tamale for lunch, wondering why when you’ve finally found the perfect tank top with built-in underwire size-D bra, that it insists in slipping up around your midsection when you layer it under cotton shirts and then your pants, which are really just too slightly low-cut for anyone with a genetic propensity to a paunchy belly, well they are showing a bit too much skin and underwear lines because of the scrunchiness of said tank top, well if that is you, then can I tell you that the perfect music for you to be listening to just at this moment is Poe’s “5 1/2 Minute Hallway.” Just in case you needed to know that.
Category Archives: if this is you
Because people sing to me
Some workers are trimming the trees around our apartment. I suspect that if today wasn’t a Portland-style drizzly day that this would actually mean that a ray of light would be coming in our windows. This will totally change our lives, I think. To actually be able to open the windows and have sun streaming in.
I have the back sliding door wide open (with the screen closed) and the front door open (again, with a screen). The 5 or 6 workers who are hanging from the various trees are serenading me in Spanish right now. Well, I have to admit that they might not necessarily be singing to me, but considering that I am sitting in the LR at the table working, and they are less than 10 feet away from me and there is only a flimsy plastic screen between us, they ARE singing to me. I tried hooking up a mic to my computer to record their voices, but all I got was some odd mechanical sounds from my processor (no music). Grrr.
These are the same workers who, when I came home from class yesterday afternoon, had made nests of burlap sacks in the bushes and were catching a quick nap after lunch. When I rode past them on my bike one of them tipped the brim of his hat at me and winked. I’m suspecting that The Winker is the one who’s singing the loudest right now.
John never believes that people sing to me when I am at home during the day. It’s often the neighbors, and not men in trees. But it happens. All the time. Promise.
😉
to self
Note to self: next time you make German Chocolate Cookies for the kids’ lunches, bag them up and put them into the freezer. Right away. Don’t leave them in a tantalizing pile on the counter. Otherwise they will call out to you the whole day as you’re trying to read Foucault.
‘Cuz everyone knows that Theory goes down much easier with copious amounts of chunky cookies w/pecans. Yep.
🙂