I love my little place. I love that I am a ten minute drive from music row, minutes from most music venues in town, walking distance from a Library, a coffee shop, my recycling place, and a little farmers market in the summer. I love that there are a group of squirrels who greet me at my door mat when I get home and entertain me with their death defying leaps off my porch to the closest tree whenever I get just close enough to brush their tails with the toe of my shoe. The inside of my little place is just as pleasing. Despite the fact that my oven sets off my smoke detector when it’s set above 300 degrees, and that my heater, air conditioner and freezer seem to have their own idea of the correct temperature they should be at despite my making it very clear as to what I want by using the dial on each of them, I love my cozy little place. 

In the last week and a half, I have been doing my best to battle a nasty cold/flu bug. I put all my effort into taking my vitamins, drinking water, tea with honey, and every type of cold medicine I could find, but still managed to miss some work and miss a show. Luckily I am on the recovering end of the bug, but during the process, I’ve gotten to enjoy my cozy little home, from the inside, quit a bit more than usual. Tonight is no different. I’m sitting here with my tea, in several layers of sweats, checking my e-mail. Just like all of the little things about my place that I love, that never let me down, the quirks are just as consistent. As I sat down tonight with my throat coat tea, just like clock work, 10:30 brought a familiar and unpleasant sound. My Neighbor is apparently an aspiring lounge singer. I have yet to figure out which unit he is in, but he is not messing around when it comes to his practice time. He has his keyboard volume up to 10, and he serenades me, unknowingly I’m sure, with his best rendition of ‘Desperado.’ Again and again and again he goes through the same song for at least an hour. If his voice cracks while trying to belt out the high note in the last chorus, as it often does, he starts that part over to make for the perfect ending. But there is no ending. This happens at 10:30pm every night…Every night…

I love my little place, but as they say, nothings perfect…