Pure Torture

Why oh why must people force me to listen to country music? I hold, as always, to my position that anything so horrific can not truly be called music. Bowing to the pressure at work, I agreed to come in to work today, a Saturday, in order to get as much work done as possible in preparation for the end of tax season which is fast approaching. The plus: free bagels and cream cheese (and next Saturday, breakfast at the Edgewater), the drawback: listening to my boss extol the joys of both country music and Celine Dion, whom he has granted the award of best voice ever. All this to the accompaniment of blaring country interspersed with Celine Dion songs. It's just not right.