Yesterday was great. Last night was really nice. I talked to CJ and he’s making post graduation plans in the form of a truck for $1000 and a job and some vague and sketchy living plans. When you’re 18 and single you can do vague and sketchy and get away with it.
Even this morning was ok. I bought groceries without incident (well, being there at 7:30 helps, as no one else is there.) Well, almost without incident, I forgot catfood and had to go back in. Then…
On the radio, on the way home, they played Molly Hatchet. And I was all triggered and stuff. It was like…Oh…CRANK IT UP PEGGY. So I did. Then I had to recharge the ipod and I figured while I was there might as well go to the iTunes store and see if they had any Molly Hatchet and of course they did so I spent $10 on an album and now I’m listening to it and wondering why on EARTH I didn’t own any of this mess? RIDICULOUS!
And now I am feeling the PMS start (Terry warned me last night it was due) and all…uh oh…dare I go to Prayer group? Courtesy and tact tend to take a back burner this time of the month. These are ladies, nice women, who’s relationships I enjoy and I don’t want to risk..y’know…saying something undiplomatic. I’ll have to think about it.
Yesterday I had Harriet out for a polish (Harriet is a .22 magnum revolver) and I was all “oh…I forgot just how pretty it is.” then I thought “where did that come from?” then I thought “oh yeah, Terry said I was due.”
See, Molly Hatchet is Mood Music. I’m generally the instrumental jazz (Pat Metheny, Sven Leibek) sort. However, once in a while, roughly every 28-30 days, I require something…er…nastier. With a harsher edge and a bit of existentialism attached. Southern Rock. Not Allman bothers with their happiness, but rougher-around-the edges and crank-it-up with a heavy back beat. Lynyrd Skynyrd, Molly Hatchet, good solid Redneck Rock. Guns-n-Roses.