Hangers. Ugh. Spent a good deal of effort putting things away today. Plastic, felted, wood – WIRE – they all get tangled and stuck together. I hate hangers. Hangers might just kill me. Had to write a song:

Hangers everywhere 

Hang me up to bear and dry

Hangers out to bur–y


You call it chaos/I’m amazed at your language

There’s an eye to my storm

And if you can’t see it/You were born too late


What’ll I do? I’m wallowing in the mire!

What should I do? Set it all on fire!

If I do/I’ll be over you and your lies

It’ll carry me through/I need new

But I’m not going under