Lyrics for Tuesday

I Don't Remember Christmas
From Starting Here, Starting Now
By David Shire and Richard Maltby Jr.

I was standing in the bedroom
When it suddenly came clear
That at last I don't remember
That at one time you were here.
All that stuff that used to haunt me
Like your robe behind the door?
For the first time, I don't notice
That they're not here anymore.

And I don't remember summer,
I do not remember fall,
So it's possible December
Never happened after all.
Did we trim the tree together?
I can't get the image through,
Cause I don't remember Christmas
And I don't remember you

Later on to my astonishment
I did not feel a tug
When I walked into the living room
And saw that sheepskin rug.
All those pesky little echoes,
They're all gone without a trace;
It was good to know I could grow
Unaccustomed to your face.

Cause I don't remember Easter
Or the rainy day we met.
Did we really have some good times?
Come on, tell me, I forget.
Did I think that you were springtime?
It's all vanished in the blue,
Cause I don't remember Christmas
And I don't remember you.

If she wants to leave you...well, let her,
Says a practical voice in my head.
Any sensible man would forget her...
Forget her...forget her...

So Thanksgiving never happened
And Bermuda is a blur,
And I'm not the type to waste time
Over things that never were.
Were you really my obsession
Til our ship of pleasures sank?
No, I guess I must have dreamt you,
Cause the whole year is a blank.

And I don't remember crying,
And I can't recall your touch.
Cause I'd never be so stupid
As to open up so much.
Did I really say I need you?
No, the words just don't ring true
Cause I don't remember talking
And I don't remember laughing
And I don't remember wanting
And I don't remember needing
I do not remember April
I do not remember Tuesday
And I don't remember Christmas
And I don't remember you.

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Quick, see if you can guess my mood from that!

Yesterday was shitty. Had some bright spots, like sitting at my son's fencing lesson and reading and thinking, gee, I am perfectly capable of enjoying these books without talking to anyone about them at all. But, mostly, it was shitty, because, in the immortal words of , people suck. (Some people, of course, do not suck; this general complaint is not aimed at them. Though at least one of them is bound to take it personally anyway, because people suck like that, too...heh.)

: "Swelter", for the weather challenge. Movieverse.