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It takes six to tango while riding a horse

So, I work in a small office with five other women. “Work” being my day job because I’m not allowed to be a full-time writer yet. Something about paying the mortgage and money going in to the bank account instead of out. I don’t know. I let BW handle all that. Numbers hurt my brain.

Anyway, there’s five other women in the office, making it six women total including me. (I can totally count to six, numbers that small don’t hurt my brain.) Three of the six women love country music. Like so much so that they want to listen to it all day long. The other three of us, myself included, don’t care for it at all.

I’ll be honest. I hate it. Like a poke my own eye out so I have something else to focus on kind of hate. The other two women can take it or leave it. I don’t think their feelings on the subject are as passionate about it as mine. The good thing is I can usually tune it out by singing to myself. The bad thing about that, is it means I tune everything out, my boss and my assistant included. But that’s a story for another time.

The fact that I can tune it out is good. For me. Except, maybe when I’m in my car. Recently the radio station 103.7 (in San Diego) switched from rock to country. And I still have it in my car radio pre-sets (no I don’t have satellite radio) because I can’t find anything else to take it’s place. And every so often I have to stop on that channel while channel surfing because I have to shift or brake or turn a corner, or something else driving related that requires my entire attention.

I realized the other day that I will sometimes leave it on the country station for extended periods of time because I can tune it out. Somewhere in my brain, I find that whole process to be kind of comforting. Or at least routine. Having to tune out music that I don’t like.

But then yesterday I found I was humming along to the song that I don’t like. Because I’ve heard it so many damn times at work. Aghast!

My fear, of course, is that I am turning into some kind of country music fan. And I don’t want that. I like that my turquoise cowboy hat, and fancy Dan Post cowboy boots (Christmas present – thank you BW!) are fashion statements only. I don’t need to wear them with a pair of Daisy Dukes and go to a Tim McGraw concert.

I tried googling “a cure for reluctant country music attraction” and nothing came up. So I’m open to suggestions. If anyone ever reads this and wants to help a girl out.


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