Lately, I’ve been in a funk.
Not only do I know why I am in this funk, I know what it’s going to take to get out of it.
It’s not a big deal, really. Not a huge one, anyway. But it’s still a funk that I can’t wait to be free of.
And, sometimes, these are the worse kinds of funks. The ones you know the cause, the effect and the solution. Because things are so clear and you know each step of the process to be free of it.
It’s just the waiting out that gets on you fucking nerves.
Anyway, my roommate freakmagnet, knows music like nobody’s business. And not just who sings what, but lyrics. And not just lyrics, but the meaning.
And she also knows my funk.
So tonight she suggested I listen to a song. Sorry, readers, you get neither the artist, nor the title. I imagine it’s not that hard to figure out what the song is, but I’m not gonna spoon feed it to you.
But, back to the point…
I listened to the song three times, to hear the lyrics, and yeah, good job freak, the song is oh-so-appropriate.
I don’t know if I was supposed to feel better or worse, but it made me feel better somewhat. And, at the same time, worse somewhat. But more on the better side. And, at the very least, more accepting, which makes it easier. If that makes any sense.
It’s reasons like that suggestion that make you the queen of music.
Sometimes I just have to give out props.