I did get stuck in the parking lot at work and had to shovel and sweep (with a broom) the snow to make a path. Although we do not deal with only local clients, it was like the whole country had gotten the message that we were getting dumped on so it was a quiet day filled with the energy a snowstorm brings. If we all could have that excitement and static charge on a regular basis, imagine how nice life could be.
By late afternoon the snow and wind stopped and I hear Monday is calling for rain and thunderstorms. Welcome to Northeast Ohio.
The hubby and I drove to Target this evening because out in the middle of nowhere the fun Friday night thing to do is hit the local Target. (We don’t really “hit” it, we just shop there but that might be an exciting element…) In less than 30 minutes we were $200 in the hole. Either the prices of things have increased or I have lost my $100 touch. We went with the intention of getting the girls tights for tomorrow’s Cinderella Ball. (Lucky Hubby gets to “escort” them) At least we remembered the tights among other things.
I bought myself the new Adele CD. It’s amazing. But here’s the thing. I really like my music loud. Which is kind of out of normal character for me. So while I was unpacking the groceries and they were thumping along on the counter my son entered the room and turned down the music. Of course I told him to turn it back up. Ten minutes later the hubby walked into the room and turned the music down. I told him he was a nerd and he is now mad at me and has disappeared into the basement.
I have always listened to my music this way. I just feel it better when it’s loud. I pay attention more. It goes back to when I was a kid sound asleep one random week night when suddenly the screams of Rod Stewart Live in Concert filled the house and scared me right out of the bed. When I peeked downstairs my Dad was rocking out. This was really out of character for him. I left him to it.
My brothers, both older than me, were always on the cutting edge of music. I was exposed to all different types of bands and singers played as loud as the stereo would allow in the car, at home and outside.
When I was just out of college living in my one bedroom apartment on the third floor, most Friday nights were spent sitting in the window watching the rest of the world out partying with friends. I would listen to every melancholy and soulful song I could, smoke cigarettes and feel sorry for my career driven self. I still think if you drive past that brick duplex next to the railroad tracks you will see a young girl in the far right corner window staring out.
There is just something about music for me. I can hear a song and it’s like an instant memory will pop in my head like a photograph. I can hear a song and I am somewhere else, ten or fifteen years ago but picturing it exactly as it was. I feel like I am capable of doing anything when I have good music on. I drive better, exercise more, thoughts flow freely, and my passion begins to stir. But only if it’s loud. I think maybe tonight I shocked my family a little just like my Dad shocked me so many years ago in the middle of the night. He was remembering a time with his music and it was out of character.
So tonight, instead of staring out of a third story window, watching the world out and about, I am staring at a computer screen, and remembering. I’m not as alone as I once was, but maybe just as lonely.
