Ok, I’ll admit it. I’ll come out.
I am an avid song-maker-upper.
Please don’t judge me.
Maybe this stems from being raised as an only child and having lots of time to myself, chatting to my imaginary friends. Creating scenarios, many of which involved spontaneous musical numbers. Am I alone here? Anybody? …sigh.
You’d think that my urge to sing and make-up-stuff would be fueled by having kids. That my need to stimulate and expand their little minds would inspire me to create wondrous arias. But no. Not sure why not. But no.
However, I noticed a change today. Once the delivery men drove off, leaving me alone with my new-second-hand fridge and stove and brand-new freezer, I started singing. I’ll spare you the details, but I will tell you that one song was simply titled “I love my appliances” and (in my mind’s “ears”) could rival any Taylor Swift song.
It was an incredibly silly, totally freeing and absolutely beautiful moment.
You may now mock me viciously.