The trench is dug…

I am incessantly ornery.

It’s July.

We all know how I feel about July.

Our bedroom is consistently eighty degrees or hotter depending on how hot it is outside and sometimes I wonder if the lone air vent under our Giant Window of Western Exposure is actually connected to the rest of the HVAC system in our Tiny House of Three Windows That Open. If you stand directly on top of it when the A/C is running, you can feel the cold air, but it does not travel far beyond that point. Certainly not to the bed where we sleep. Two fans keep it marginally tolerable, but I am about to start hucking rocks at people.

The rest of the house is generally perfectly fine. Bob borders between comfortable and a little warm, but nothing a fan under his desk can’t fix. I am always wearing long sleeves and usually a (very thin) hoodie because I am always freezing (unless I am in the bedroom) and don’t deter from my default wardrobe no matter the season. Short sleeves don’t make me feel any cooler, but they do make me want to claw my own skin off because ADHD sensory bullshit is a real fresh hell.

ANYWAY.

Week 121…

Everything just keeps getting progressively worse in Every.Single.God.Damn.Facet.Of.Existence so we’re still counting weeks. (The things I really want to say about this timeline of horrors would get me arrested, or at least put on some sort of watch list.)

I’ve been trying to write a post for over a month that is NOT just a lead-in to the Last.fm stats. I actually have something of innocuous import to write about that warrants its own post. The universe, however, has seen fit to derail every single effort made to write anything of the sort. In possibly related news, I really love when someone else’s fuck up becomes my problem to fix. And by love, I mean EXPLETIVES AND RUDE GESTURES.

Back in the days of ye olde LiveJournal I spent a number of years listening to Drive 105 and reporting on the ever-expanding Drive List. I was also trapped in the festering hell of Pass the Buck Management (TM) so I took every opportunity to scream about my misery in several posts every single day of the week. Meanwhile Drive 105 took every opportunity to play U2’s Sunday Bloody Sunday. (That is, if they weren’t already playing that abomination My Doorbell by The fucking White Stripes.)

I would never call myself a U2 fan and I have long thought Bono is a colossal douche canoe, though I honestly cannot remember when or why specifically that notion manifested. But screaming SUNDAAAAAAY BLOODY SUNDAAAAAAY at the top of my lungs was somehow cathartic. The problem being, I was always at work when I heard the song because it was the only time I listened to the radio, so I couldn’t actually SCREAM anything. So I took to making posts on my journal wailing in all caps and bold type, frequently increasing the font size for good measure. And that would be the entire post.

Yes really.

(It’s entirely possible I also spouted off about why I thought Bono was a douche in one of those posts, but I’m not willing to brave the minefield that is my LiveJournal account to find out if such a rant exists. I have little desire to revisit the recorded evidence of my sickest and darkest days living with mental illness.)

(Also I would never claim the abusive, toxic nightmare of my godawful desk job was anything as horrific as the actual Bloody Sunday.)

Anyway.

Every time I see the latest news headlines I feel compelled to just scream SUNDAAAAAAY BLOODY SUNDAAAAAAY at the top of my lungs for a few, brief seconds of reprieve.

Also…

How long?
How long must we sing this song?
How long?
How loooooong?

BECAUSE FUCKING SERIOUSLY.

And then I go make s’mores in the toaster oven because why else do we own a toaster oven?

There is not likely to be any U2 in the Last.fm stats. Even if that one song IS on the Drive List.

But there might be toasted marshmallow schmutz on my keyboard…

Top 10 Most Played Artists for June 2022…

1.) The Killers 552 plays

2.) The Monkees 320 plays

3.) Brandon Flowers 191 plays

4.) Splender 156 plays

5.) Ingram Hill 118 plays

6.) Panic! At the Disco 116 plays

7.) Gavin DeGraw 111 plays

8.) Nine Days 100 plays

9.) Toad the Wet Sprocket 69 plays

10.) Darren Criss 58 plays

Honorable mention: Matchbox Twenty, Tonic, Train, Gin Blossoms, The Young Veins, Computer Games

Total of 2,005 plays of 765 tracks from 89 albums by 16 artists.

Sunday Bloody Sunday
U2

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