When I get up on Monday morning and drive in to work, the trip is generally uneventful. For those of you expecting to read a story about an accident or a chemical spill or a severed head, you're about to be very disappointed.
There was nothing so eventful as missing body parts or mangled cars. The event occurred within my own car. See, I made the mistake of listening to a CD which has been known to have an emotional effect on me.
It's a recording of Dad singing songs that he used to do in church. I actually listened to some of it last night and did okay. But this morning was a different matter.
I almost made it to work without breaking down. I was even singing along. Then, out of nowhere, my throat closed up, my eyes began watering, and my nose started running. And I was about two blocks from the bank.
I thought about turning around and just heading back home. Not that I need a really strong excuse to up and skip work on a Monday, but I couldn't just stroll into our weekly branch meeting with signs that I've been crying all morning. And it's not a macho thing. I don't care if people knew that I cried. Come on, if I cared, do you think I'd be posting about it for all the cyberspace to see? Or... all four of you to see?
I just didn't want to deal with the explanations. The "are you okay?" and the "what's the matter?" Just not something I want to get into with the coworkers. Thankfully I was able to wipe away the tears and clear my sinuses before walking into the branch.
Some of you may be wondering why I would do something so blatantly stupid as to purposely listen to my Dad singing, knowing that it would effect me in that way. The answer is simple. I miss him. I miss hearing his voice. And the closest thing I have now is a CD. I'm really glad he put that together all those years ago.