Just Another Misanthropic Monday

Awful morning: Mad hair. Missing earring. Scale with a damned imperceptibly moving needle despite ratcheting up of workout routine as a preemptive battle against holiday bulge. Oatmeal that turned into a gluey mess before I had time to eat it. People who obey speed limits driving in front of me. In short, a crap start to the week.

As though they could sense my irritation with my fellow man, Tall and Venti decided to pile on and seated themselves directly behind me and loudly commenced with the rat-a-tat-tat cadence of their native tongue. And thanks to the overcast morning it was too dark to read my book. Why didn't I use the overhead lamp, you may ask? Because the idea of being bathed in a halo of light unnerves me. It makes me self-conscious to think of the back of my head being that well lit and that there could possibly be people staring at it.

So I crooked my head against the window and listened to music. I could still overhear the chatter around me and wished that I skipped the van this morning and drove myself to work instead. I replayed all the minor catastrophes of the morning and as I was settling into a moody funk that would have probably lasted the day, my spirits lifted.

The last song I heard before getting off the van was Foo Fighters' "Big Me." The tune is imbued with such dippy feelgoodishness that it is impossible to resist.

Thanks Dave Grohl.