More Musical Genius

I'm one of those people who finds it physically impossible not to sing along when I hear music. It's almost an involuntary reaction; sometimes I don't even realize I'm doing it. I bop along to the elevator music while waiting on line at the supermarket, I belt out my iPod playlists on the treadmill at the gym, I put on concerts in my car. I kill at karaoke. An old boyfriend once used that "Who sings this song? Well, let's keep it that way!" line on me. We didn't last very long.

I used to drive the folks at my last job nuts just sitting at my desk, processing insurance payments and happily harmonizing away. But there's no Muzak in my new office, and we're not allowed to wear headphones. For the first few weeks I found the silence stifling, but I've lately found myself still singing anyway, just whatever pops into my head. A few days ago it was — inappropriately, I might add — "Smack My Bitch Up" by Prodigy; last week I couldn't stop humming the Project Runway theme music. And that's not even taking into account the fact that "Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah, roma-ro-ma-ma, Gaga-ooh-la-la" has been running on a loop through my head for about a month. Most recently, it's been "Mad World," the Gary Jules version. I heard it for the first time on a repeat episode of CSI and it's been pretty much lodged in my brain ever since. However, strangely enough, I've never picked up on all of the lyrics, which has resulted in this bit of improvsation:

[to the tune of "Mad World"]

"I don't know all of the words to this song,
just the chorus,
but it's stuck in my head.

And I'm starting to annoy myself, re-
peating it over,
over and over again.

Maybe I should look them up
before I go insane
and my co-workers get
all pissed off and complain.

Mad world, mad world..."

Thank you, Cleveland!