Next Monday


Because it’s Monday and I only functions as good as a half brain. 
I woke up in Monday morning with the line ‘Who’s next, who’s next...” lingering in my head. I made a pledge to listen to the rest of the song by the time I get to the office. It is Oh, the Divorces!, a so much mellow song that often makes me want to stop the world just to let the feeling flow.
I didn’t remember whose song it is, so I checked on spotify. It is a part of Emma Morley mixtape, of course.
Apparently, Tracey Thorn wrote the song as a part of her solo project album. And who the hell is Tracey Thorn? She’s a half of Everything but the Girl. I hope the name rings a bell. Missing? No?
Anyway. The rest of  the gloomy Monday has been perfectly lulled by Tracey Thorn’s songs. My heart skips a beat when the Night and Day rolled. This is very beautiful.

I wonder, why Monday frequently turns on the mellow tone? Is Monday is jealous of Sunday? Sunday is easy, wanted and difficult to part.  European Sunday is less exciting but it lives a contentment to begin the week with. Party on or sleeping in, doesn’t really matter.
Last Sunday, I ended it with walking home from Otto’s bar, hand in hand with a dear friend while talking about moving on to Hawaii next year. It was a fine spring night, the first night I went out in shorts during the year. My friend walked in a funny gesture, because his boots were too tight. I told him, it’s boots-off from now on.  But he is a blues frontman, he needs boots to complete the performance.

Previously, I danced to his songs in happiness. I took a Japanese girl by the hand and we awkwardly wiggled in our shy Asian way. I goofed around and then took a rest in a sitting corner with one of  my dance partners. A bottle of free beer in hands while we were talking about life and what to do next. No, I didn’t hooked up nor fell in love nor infatuated nor went somewhere instead of home. My dear friend finally joined me with his guitar in tow and I kissed his cheek. Later in the night, a guy cornered me with a question followed by a dissappointed look “Why did you hit me?” when I said that I was going home.  I giggled and dragged the guitar with me.

So yeah, I wrapped up Sunday with a mixed feeling in my heart. A warmth sensation that I walked by someone that I wanna be with. Is this how people feel when they talk about compassion? What about love? The spring air was such a delight and I know that life is getting very good. But, I guess I broke another heart that night. Not sure it was that guy’s or mine. 
Who’s next?
Who’s next?
Always the ones
That you least expect
- Tracey Thorn

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