I have nothing of interest to say. It’s been rough ’round the homestead of late and I was pretty close to just saying fuck it all and running away from home and coming to live with you guys instead (if you are wondering “Does she mean me?” the answer is a big fat “YES” because I was planning on embarking upon a Needy Elaine tour of the homes of friends and family).
Wooh. Boy did you all dodge a bullet! So instead of cashing my paycheck and grabbing the necessities and driving…somewhere… instead I’m in a rental car (Murano’s at the body shop – loooooong story) in Staples parking lot. I need to get back to work but – newsflash – I don’t want to.
The good news at work is that Muzak loves me. While yes, there is a fuck ton of Xmas music at work right now, it’s not every song being played and while my beloved Eagles version of “Please Come Home For Christmas” is not on the play list, Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” a song that I feel is too, too sublime, is played at least once a day.
Then again, her equally sublime version of “White Christmas” is also not being played, which is good. If I had to listen to her sing that verse about “It is December 24th and I am longing to be up north” (don’t have time to get the quote right, you get the point), I might be forced to puncture both eardrums or run away to Indiana after all.