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Oops, I Did It Again.

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I listened to moody music today.

Not a lot of it, mind you. But enough to take me straight into funky town of the brain. ¬†Looking back, I can remember exactly how it happened and why I didn’t stop it from happening.

I was on my way to my local coffee shop (Politics & Prose).

It was a pretty day. A very pretty day.

And I was thinking about a street near my local coffee shop that I would really like to live on.

It’s DC, mind you, so the chances are very good that living on a street I want to live on is not possible from a financial standpoint.

But it was a pretty day and I was working on business matters and I remember thinking that maybe today I would work on something that brought in the big check that would enable me to buy a house on the street I love.

Yeah, that’s how my mind works.

So I went into my local coffee shop, which is also a bookstore, and headed down to the  downstairs cafe where they keep the coffee.

I set up my laptop and strategically organized my tabletop accessories as only a true obsessive can and proceeded to draw a comic strip.

A song came into my earphones that I knew I shouldn’t listen to because it was one of my favorite workout songs. And I didn’t want to accidentally go into workout mode. I wanted to stay in comic strip drawing mode. So I clicked on Playlists.

And then I accidentally clicked on a Playlist I haven’t listened to in ages.

I knew immediately that I shouldn’t do it.

But it was a pretty day and I had coffee. And people seemed happy and there was a chance that I would work on something that would get me the big check I need to buy a house on the street I love.

And the music was good.

The music was familiar and had a good beat. The music was sexy and inspiring and, well, it was moody.

And yes, I am not allowed to listen to moody music.

But I did.

I listened to about seven moody songs before a friend arrived.

As it turns out, seven moody songs is more than enough to take my impressionable brain to funky town.

I’m sorry, Spandau Ballet. I’m sorry Sting from 1982. I’m sorry, Talk Talk and Talking Heads.

I’m sorry that your songs make me blue.

It’s me, not you.

Tonight I’ll turn it around. I’ll watch an episode of Will and Grace or Friends. Those shows always make me laugh in a simple, idiotic, oblivious way that brings my mood up.

And I’ll do some dancing in place to Love Canon while I walk the dog. That works too.

I’ll take a bath, draw a strip, send a few emails, read a few emails. I’ll drink a Coke One in the big green plastic glass with the big green plastic straw.

And I’ll try to remember that no amount of self awareness or personal insight will ever change the fact that listening to certain moody 80’s music makes me moody.

That’s it.

No more certain moody 80’s music for me.

Well, maybe I’ll listen to it again. But this time I’ll follow it up with MANDATORY ABBA.

ABBA always works.

xoxo, d

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