I have had “Good-Bye Earl” by the Dixie Chicks stuck in my head for FOUR DAYS. You know, that song about two women, Maryanne and Wanda, who kill Maryanne’s abusive husband Earl with no regrets? Yeah, that one. Over. And. Over.
I really don’t know what the deal is. It kept me awake Monday and Tuesday nights. I slept okay last night, but as soon as I woke up it started up again. That Natalie Maines drawl, those catchy lyrics “…he was a missing person that no body missed at all.” I don’t particularly like the Dixie Chicks, though I own two of their CDs. Wide Open Spaces I bought when I lived in Iowa and I put down to a certain amount of Stockholm Syndrome. The second I think I bought to support their outspoken criticism of President George W. Bush.
I don’t know why this song. It seems to be triggered by something in our house. I am not hearing it much at work or in the car. But at home, it is near constant.
Our routine is messed up right now. Big A got a temp gig for 4-ish months out in Winfield. So he leaves before me now and comes home after. We haven’t gotten to the gym, have no food in the house, and everything is at sixes and sevens, but we are happy for the income, Big A is pleased to interact with humans and not just cats, and I am really really enjoying having some alone time in the house. Things are good. So why am I being tortured by Earl and Wanda and Maryanne?
I used to get songs stuck in my head all the time. I didn’t know that didn’t happen to other people. I don’t mean like a tune goes through your mind unobtrusively, I mean a song takes up a large portion of your brain for weeks. It is called an intrusive thought and it mostly stopped after I started taking Celexa and became celexallent. So today I upped my dose a little. Maybe I have SAD and this is messing with me. I certainly feel seasonally affected today. Big A and I had a date planned last night but he wouldn’t tell me where we were going, so I asked what I should wear and he said, “Something that makes you feel good and sexy”. When I looked at my closet last night I wanted to cry. I am so tired of sweaters and tights and dark pants and boots. Blah, winter.
In an attempt to scrub my brain of this song, I have listened to it, listened to someone else singing it, listened to pop music, listened to music with words, without words, sang to myself, and tried to pronounce the inner OM. I am SOL. It is not in my head right now, but I am afraid as soon as I step into my house, it will happen again. Arg.
Stupid Earl.
Maybe I should come over with a sage smudge stick and we’ll cleanse the apartment. We can play witch and burn that mother out. And don’t feel weird, I’ve had the same kind of song haunting before. Except, and god only knows why, it was “The Candy Man Can.” And those are the only words to that song I know. Blech.