It happens every day. Every morning when I take my iPod out of my bag for the walk to work, it looks like this--and takes a good anxiety-filled 5 minutes to wrangle and untangle. Every morning, peeps. Every morning. If this is a paradigm for my mind, what would happen if I actually unravelled a solution? How do normal people avoid iPod wad?
To more clearly demonstrate the theme, a better blogger might have featured "Do It Again." But I'm so haunted by this next one, and besides, it's still about someone who's on repeat. Though it sort of annoys me, as I learned from the comments, that it was featured in The Sopranos.
P.S. Don't feel bad that I only have 43 songs on my iPod. I have to transfer iTunes from my old Mac to my new one : )
P.S.S. I'm already trying to make life simpler by not using the extra possessive "s," as in Sisyphus's! That's as crazy as a serial comma!
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