That Morning Music

Sometimes a song will get stuck in my head for days. There's almost never a reason--at least none that I can decipher. Most of the time it's a line or two of the most ridiculous songs, and it can be quite annoying.

I've had many a discussion with others about this phenomenon, so I know I'm not the only one it has ever happened to. I'm certain that, if given a chance to, many would comment with their most cringe-worthy stuck-in-the-head tunes. (Because I am so sure of this, I plan to share this story on social media, just for the comment sections!)

I will give you an example of the ridiculousness of songs I've had stuck in my head.

Granted, there could have been a real reason for this one. Not long before my father had to be in a nursing home after a bad fall, I had been in the throes of stuck-in-my-head with this song, so I started to chant it out loud, hoping to get rid of it.

(Like you do. I know you do--when a song is stuck in your head, you jump at the first opportunity to hear it so it will go the hell away. Right?)

So, Dad asked my why I had made up such a silly thing as that, and I told him it was a real song from the 60s. He didn't believe me, so we all gathered around my phone and looked it up. Mom and Dad both listened, made me play it again, and declared it "Dumb." Which it is.

Anyway, after Dad passed away later that year, I was enmeshed in dealing with one horrible thing after another: the cremation; the funeral; the flooded basement the day after the funeral; the hurricane blizzard a couple of weeks after that.

And, oh my God, the paperwork! Who knew that so much paperwork would have to be done?

That stupid song would not leave my head:

"And I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats..."

Yeah. And it was true, I felt like I was going crazy for a while there. Grief is like that.

So I took a break, looked up the song, and listened to it. I listened more than once. And it finally went away--until now.

So I am currently listening to:

That'll get rid of dumb stuff. I hope.

Anyway, what got me thinking about all this was waking this moring with this song going through my head:

I thought, "What's this all about?"

Then I had to use my superhuman might to fight off the overly-enthusicastic Mama-kissing Chihuahua who planted herself on my chest and commenced to attack me with love.

Okay, so that happened. The power of a determined tiny dog cannot be exaggerated--I was thoroughly kissed by the time I disentangled myself from the blankets and got up. Clearly, Molly is my Kryptonite, since she won the battle.

Still, as I took care of breakfast and cleaned the kitchen, I still couldn't get the question out of my head, so I turned to--who else?--Google. "What does it mean when a song is stuck in your head?" I queried, not expecting much in the way of an answer.

I was wrong.

Earworm songs, experienced by many, have been the subject of plenty of research. Here's an interesting article from Time magazine. It offers theory and possible solutions to getting that silly thing out of your head. Not surprisingly, their suggestion to just listen to the whole thing--like I do--is included.

I have to add, though, that the song I woke up with today opened an internal dialogue with myself. Why do I feel the need, I asked me, to be the superhuman hero? When did I become the person who believes she can never fail anyone? What makes you think you can be everything to everybody and never expect to go crazy? You can't succeed, you crazy lady!

"If I go crazy, then will you still call me superman?"

Maybe it was a little message from my subconscience.

Stop and think before saying yes to everything and everyone. Don't be a doormat. Don't bite off more than you can chew.

Take care of yourself first--you're no good to anyone else if you let yourself fall apart.

Slow down and listen to some tunes.

Dance.

Not bad advice to wake up to, is it?

Be nice to you.