Life inside the Headphones

I really love my job with the Tax Commission...work is steady, consistent. Sit down, look at a form and type, when finished, move to the next. Lather, rinse, repeat as needed. It would literally be the perfect job if it went year round....

This last Saturday was a little creepy--I had a string of forms that must've come in the same envelope from a military base. They all had this little note in the corner, "COMBAT ZONE"--a little unnerving. Thankfully they all got refunds, would've felt guilty if they had to pay Idaho taxes on top of everything else--oh, and all of them? Woefully underpaid. Disgusting.

Anyhow, one of the nice things about the gig is that as it is so conssistent, you don't have to pay a lot of attention to it and still do a good job. So for a few hrs a day, I get to just sit in pretty much silence, and let my mind wander, think of a particular issue, book, whatever. Last year I plotted out about half a dozen short stories...never got around to writing them, 'tho. Go through a bazillion batteries for my CD player, though.

Recently listened to a very challenging, convicting and convincing sermon by Joel Beeke, The Great Boon to Sanctification: Conducting Family Worship. Glad no one was around to see me on the verge of weeping... "You okay there? Yeah, those Fuel Use Deductions really get to me, too."

A few years ago I decided that the best music to do data entry to was Boy Band stuff like 'Nync or Backstreet Boys (or is it Boyz? Don't care). For the record, never bought any, but would keep the radio tuned to a station that would play that a lot.

But a good second place entry is 80's music. So last week I made this huge mp3 CD of 80's tunes, taking full advantage of the size of mp3's and the CD. A playlist that would make Methuselah and Mithradites say, "Dude, this is taking forever..." Granted , there's no art to it, Rob Fleming would be disappointed in it for that. Basically just dragged and dropped 700 MBs on to the disc. There's a danger to that tho, there's this impulse to sing along...can you just imagine sitting there tap-tapping on your keyboard to hear my caterwauling:

I’m begging you, please...
Don’t talk to strangers, baby don’t you talk
Don’t talk to strangers, you know he’ll only use you up
Don’t talk, don’t talk, don’t talk,
Don’t talk, don’t talk to him
Nobody, talk, nobody, ever told you, don’t talk

Okay, enough time-killing, I have report/paper/stuff to write...putting the headphones back on to get some done...but at least I'm at home and my kids won't complain (they're used to it)

Turnaround, every now and then I get a
little bit lonely and you're never coming around
Turnaround, Every now and then I get a
little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
Turnaround, Every now and then I get a
little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by
...

Sing along!