It's Just Noise

I love my husband. I love him more than just about any human on the planet. I would do anything for him.

Almost anything. 

I'm starting to draw the line on listening to his music. 

Whenever we're in his car, I'm subjected to his musical tastes. It varies from gangster wrap to electronic obnoxiousness that makes me want to jump off a cliff. 

The repetitive NOISE that is house and electronic music gives me a headache. More than that, it gives me anxiety. There is something about the repetition and, just, the unnatural sound of it all that makes me want to hyperventilate. I feel like I can't breathe or slow my mind down. I start to feel trapped, and I just want to leave wherever I am. 

Thats difficult when you're in a car, but don't think I haven't considered it at a red light. 

There's also the fact that, as music, it just SUCKS.

I'm sure he thinks most if what I listen to is terrible, but I don't make him want to rip out his own brain and make a smoothie out of it. 

Sigh. Maybe a frontal lobotomy is the answer. 

I have yet to figure out if it would be for me or him. 

As always, it's hip to be square (and duhhhhhhh), kids.