Therapy. Well. Sort of ...

Worked at home today. Leastways here I can see out of the window!
Also - popped out for a while. In every sense. Went for some therapy. The kind that gets a bunch of friends crammed together in a hot little room surrounded by microphones and mixing desks, in an effort to bang down that perfect track. Or two. More intense than the normal laid back pub sessions. And - playing it live, so to speak. Not for us the ease of seperate tracks for each instrument. Play it wrong and everyone gets to play it one more time. Unlike a live performance where that one wrong note is lost to the ether; here, they're preserved for all eternity to haunt you everytime you hear that song.

Could you live with that one wrong note? No me neither. Well. Hmm. Maybe just the odd one. Or two.

So how was my therapy? Y'know? It was real good, made a change, different. Couple of hours concentrating hard on not work, not cooking/cleaning/house, not kids, not life or death, not anything, except where the hell B-flat is on my fingerboard.

Refreshed and weary. Equal measures.