Tuesday, I took Caroline to the pool after school because it was 90 degrees outside.
Yesterday we wore shorts and tank tops.
Today, it’s 63 degrees and rainy. It’s June!?!
Color me confuzzled.
I spent the morning with Caroline’s class. Her teacher had the kids bring in composition notebooks to decorate and use as a summer journal. We decoupaged for two hours.
By the end, with my fingers covered in Mod Podge and my patience waning, I found myself “helping” a little more than I should have. In other words, I took over creative control, with the kids as the assistant. It should have been the other way, but, I was eager to move things along.
The journals turned out really neat and I’m glad I had the chance to help out.
Those kids are ready for summer vacation, which begins in two weeks. For the record, I am not the least bit ready, but their behavior today was a great indicator of their readiness.
They’re antsy. They can’t remain seated. Minding the teacher is totally out of the question.
The strangest thing just happened. The bumper music to the radio program I’m listening to was “What Is Love Baby Don’t Hurt Me” by Haddaway. For some reason that song instantly makes me feel sad. It always has. Only it’s been so long since I’ve heard it that I forgot it’s depressing effect on me.
Isn’t that strange?
I’m not sure why this song evokes such a strong reaction in me and no, it’s not because I wasted my time or money watching that dumb movie “Night at the Roxbury.”
I’m honestly stumped.
After it played, I stopped blogging and went upstairs and ate graham crackers and peanut butter and a couple of spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream straight from the carton.
And don’t tell me you don’t do the same when you’re bummed.
I still feel disturbed (and now fat). Almost like when I finished reading “All He Ever Wanted” by Anita Shreve. That book was so sad and depressing; it stuck with me, haunting me, for days.
I don’t get it.
Perhaps it has to deal with some type of repressed teenage traumatic experience. It was a song heavily played when I was in high school. That is, until the radio station I listened to quite unexpectedly changed to a country station.
Every radio station I become attached to does this.
In Maryland my favorite became a spanish station over night.
And in Georgia, my all time favorite “new rock alternative” became a light jazz station.
I’m so not a fan of light jazz.
Although, I do have the last station change to thank for my conversion to talk radio, which has brought such joy to my sad life. Entertainment and enlightenment.
Conversely, however, I now have talk radio to thank for my current sad mood.
I guess I’ll blame it on that blasted light jazz station.
Really!?! Who listens to light jazz?