a bad day...

Last week I had a day of days.
Work, car, kids, school, money, the ex…
Everything seemed to be working against me
with the vigorous efficiency of a Black Flag album.

I was ahead of the game though, planning my escape long before
the smoke cleared and the minis were tucked in.
Wine?
Maybe.
Movie?
Maybe not.
Vinyl?
Without a doubt.
If anything was going to melt the day away…

I trudged along.
Homework, dinner, chores, baths, pajamas, e-mail, voicemail, junkmail…
Then it came.
I had made it.
The day’s work was finally done.
I scanned the stack and made my choice
without regard for collectability or resale value.
The economics of vinyl meant nothing when compared to my sanity.
(Don’t be scared. I’ve never even seen a Benny in real life.)

So I dropped the needle on Yield.
I sat on the couch and looked up at the ceiling.
Eventually my eyes closed and I tried to wander away
from the anger and frustration of the day.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
In the back of my mind, I heard the guys telling me
“We appreciate your confidence in us, but it may be misplaced."
"We’re just a band.”
If something didn’t happen soon, I might have started to believe them.
I was running through my head, desperately looking for my Happy Gilmore happy place.
Suddenly, I snapped out of my vinyl-induced hypnosis.

I was brought back by a single knock.
I let out a long, deep sigh.
I dropped my chin and turned my head.
She had slid down the stairs, hiding, barely peeking from behind the railing.
I don’t know how long she was there before she gave herself away.
I drew her to me with the motion of a single finger.
No sound.
I looked her dead in the eyes.
Then-

Low Light.
I scooped her up.
We slow danced in the living room without a single word.
Thanks guys.
I love you Jojo.