Having a bit of a morose day on what should be a happy one. Listening to sad music surrounded by the smells of coffee and sugar, full of decent tacos and sitting across the street from a place where we played a pretty excellent farmer’s market that defied all the farmer’s market stereotypes. We played a big stage, had someone else run sound, we sold some merch and were tipped well. A giant soy bean danced to our cover of Pink Pony Club. We’ve got two states left to go before we’ve completed the lower-48 and within the next couple of days we’re actually 100% in friend-zone arenas – but in a good way.
But I’m morose. The rain is gentle and lightening up, but it waited till we were well and done playing before trickling down. If we were looking in the right direction we’d probably find a rainbow. I’m drinking an iced mocha and in about an hour and a half I’ll get to go have a lasagna with cats that fear me.
So why so morose? Oh, I doom-scrolled. I ran across a positive, but it’s from a friend who ran away and feels FEELINGS about it. Because running away without your network when your network is really, really needed – that’s just a bad reflex. And I don’t think they really liked me anyway.
And so I’m morose.
Oh, it’s another sad song from a sad album. I’m in a waffle place and I don’t want a waffle. Is that the saddest part? It might be?
And so yeah, I’m morose.
God, this is a really atrocious album that sounds fucking algorithmically-generated for … well… for someone other than me. [this turned out to be the new Taylor Swift album]
(okay, the music has NOT grown on me, but a mom came in with her kid and said excitedly “WAFFLES FOR DINNER!!!” and I can’t help but smile about that)
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