before i met you

This is the time of day when it's harder to finish the things I wanted to finish but easier not to think about it. This is the time of day after the boy has gone to sleep, so the house is quieter (missing his clatter and, also, that somebody-in-the-house-is-sleeping hush that softens our activity just a bit, an invisible sustaining pedal), but still busy. In a few minutes, the husband will read to the girl (because in our house you're never too old for a read aloud; they finished Watership Down -oh! rabbits!- yesterday and will jump into something new/old tonight) and I will have to finish the last chores of the day so that I can sit, later, and watch something (we have Dexter on borrow from the library. I'm not sure about it yet.) without guilt, without *too much* guilt. Which is why I'm here, ostensibly, refreshing my stale ipod so I can push through by listening to something interesting. But I'm not doing that at all. No I'm listening to this song on repeat. Again, again. Thanks to a friend who mailed me a copy, I have it in my itunes now, but a couple of weeks ago, when I first discovered this song, I listened to it over and over again on youtube (and shared it with you on facebook, depending). I'm sure there are more compelling topics for a barely read blog, but my current favorite song seems as fit as anything else. Okay, one more time. And then, I mean it. Dishes. Laundry. Sweep. And see if you don't play it a few times in a row yourself. So sweet and infectious, simple and profound. We all of us, don't we, have these other people, whether romantic involvements or not, maybe past versions of our own selves, or even, dreams and plans and hopes, that we lug around with us, haunting our present.