At the end of my day I have two classes back to back. Back to back classes aren’t necessarily a bad thing, as the two hours just zip by, but when my adrenaline’s faded at the end of those two classes I feel exhausted. It may not sound like a lot of work, but standing up in front of a group of twenty-five students teaching for nearly two hours is actually quite draining.
The walk from my office to the parking lot is my time to sorta decompress. I walk slowly. I drink in the afternoon and savor the sunlight. I bring an extra granola bar to work specifically so I can enjoy it as I leave.
Today, as I was leisurely strolling and enjoying my chocolate chip granola bar…a bird shit on my left shoulder. Just shit right on me.
I might think that the universe was tying to tell me something, if I believed in such things.
After I got into the Jeep and turned on the radio, Clutch’s song “Electric Worry,” began to play. I really like this song. Not enough to make me forget about my shitty shoulder, but I still like it. Listening to this song makes me want to drink a warm, cheap beer and play pool on a marred up pool table with a wobbly pool cue. It might not be Muddy Waters or John Lee Hooker, but it’s still a semi-blues tune, and after receiving a turd on the shoulder hearing it calmed me down.
You’ve gotta love this song just for the way the harmonica player so whole-heartedly rocks his way through the song. I bet he played a mean air guitar at one time, too.
I know. At one point I thought he was gonna flip himself over.
Electric gothic? Do I see a pattern