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Humidity's Effects
08 August 2003 @ 11:26 p.m.
Humidity, rain, clouds, warm air all contribute to the sadness. Driving into work in the morning through the damp fields of seed corn, sugar beets, soybeans, and wild flowers a song comes over the radio that strikes a certain chord within me. It�s a song that used to remind me of J and the good times we shared together. Not a sad memory at all, but the combination of the rain and dreary farm road with the song and that certain anxiety wells up inside. The humidity takes over in my non-airconditioned station wagon and the tears just fall. Happy memories turn to sad, then angry, then just down-right pitiful.
The entire drive in today was pitiful. Hell, the entire day has been pitiful. That was just the beginning to the slow, messy day of too few customers and too much tea. The music of that dog�s first album streaming through my thoughts through it all; Hey Old Timer, can I ask you a question? A tired drive back down different farm roads to an empty house of a laptop and a frozen pizza.
Hotel reservations based on a promise of an accomplishment made and a fresh 2-litre of Pepsi obtained before settling down into the chair with the laptop and a cable version of �Pump Up the Volume� to swoon over the early 90s Christian Slater. The humidity continues, the tears do not.
The memories fade back inside my little red head, locked up behind the music of those particular emotions. The anxiety is behind the inner gate and I have another glass of Pepsi over ice as I think, Talk Hard.
currently reading: Jemima J � Jane Green
currently listening: the tv
