Woke up to the ever present sound of contractors working next door. A new sound came in through the bedroom this morning, the sound of a radio. By the time I returned with my coffee I heard, horror of horrors, said radio emitting the rather loud voice of Rush; not Rush the band, Rush the man. The man, the myth, the pill-popping, self-inflated legend. Damn. I slammed my door and considered the following options:
(1) Spend the day passive-aggressively pounding at the piano (worked fabulously as a child trying to get at my former stepfather).
(2) Bring my own radio out onto front porch and blast Air America.
(3) Run out onto the sidewalk and have a fake Tourette's Attack.
(4) Or, run out onto the sidewalk and revert to five year old behavior, shoving my fingers into my ears and screaming "LALALALALALALALA!!!!"
Inside I could still hear every word of Rush. I proceeded to the nearest open window facing the neighbor's house and went to slide it shut. And the top of the window fell off the track backwards onto the ground outside.
Pretty funny.
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