In My Head There's a Greyhound Station

"In my head there's a greyhound station where I send my thoughts to far-off destinations so they may have a chance of finding a place where they're far more suited than here."

Lists. I have started making new lists--lists of lists, lists of misplaced lists, reminders of lists that I need to complete. I have always been this way, but my lists are expanding. Just this morning I made a new playlist in my iTunes. I played the first ten seconds of the majority of my songs, and I realized that I was doing it so that I could somehow determine my state of mind. Ryan Adams serenading me on the front porch, Damien Rice's heart-wrenching words, Norah Jones' haunting, soulful voice--all things made me realize that I am...what? Exactly. There's no rhyme, nor reason, no explanation, no Ah ha! moment. Nothing.

So what do I do instead? Pop a few pieces of IceBreakers Lift Your Spirits strawberry gum in my mouth, smile at JB's portrait of King, and do what one of my coworkers said in our staff meeting on Monday: I keep on keeping on.