I am one of those loons with a musical memory. Given any situation, or just about any phrase, I can reliably dredge up a few words from an applicable popular song. Given all the homework I had to supervise and all the housework I did this weekend, I've had that 80s song "Workin' For The Weekend" in my brain.
Music is an essential part of my life. I have sung in community chorales and chamber choirs for many years. Those weekly rehearsals are my therapy: time for the mommy-mind to disengage and focus on notes and meter and diction and dynamics. Listening to music is cathartic for me: songs bring out all kinds of feelings and reminders of where I was in my life when a particular song was popular.
One of the wonderful benefits of singing with my current chorale is that, from time to time, we are offered free tickets to concerts presented in our city's 1400-seat theater. I got 2 free tickets to see such a concert this evening. It will feature works of Schubert and Philip Glass. The concert got a great review in today's newspaper. I can hardly wait to hear Glass's piece for 14 timpani (kettle drums)! WineGuy decided earlier in the week that he did not want to go, so I asked a friend, Wild Thing's first grade teacher, to come along. We're meeting first for dinner, and then we're going on to the concert.
I'm looking forward to filling my addled brain with some high-octane musical fuel tonight. I think WineGuy now regrets his decision. So sad, too bad. It's a Saturday girls' night out!
Saturday songs: "S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night," by the Bay City Rollers; "Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting," by Elton John.
What's your therapy?