where wildly different is perfectly normal
I need a cork…
I need a cork…

I need a cork…

There are times, like right now, when I really wish I wasn’t a musician. I get earworms in the worst way. You know earworms…those little snippets of a song or piece of music that plays on an endless loop in your head? If you think you get them bad, I’ve been known to suffer extreme insomnia from earworms. Does not please me.

So when my dear A learned to whistle, I was so happy! He was so proud! Such pitch and rhythm and accuracy!

Until now.

His favorite tune to pucker up and blow?

Funkytown. And not even correctly.

Please. Please, someone just put me out of my misery. I’m hurtin’ here…


  1. I had never heard the term “earworms” before, but thank you for sharing. Finally, I have the correct word for the hell I, too, endure occasionally. Thankfully, not with the intensity that you do. I’m sorry it’s so bad for you 🙁

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