C'est qui je suis.

Ice Cream Man

Today I have again been slapped with the reality that I am not normal. Here’s why.

As I was sitting down atop the toilet brushing my teeth (which, in itself is weird, I know), enjoying the fresh, gentle breeze, rolling in from the distance comes the sound of the Ice Cream Man.

Now, keep in mind that this is only the second week of March, and that in a town like mine we don’t often have ice cream weather for another month and a half. Granted, the weather has been nicer as of late, but even so, it has only hit about 55°F.

But my mind does not take any of this into account. What I notice first is how peculiar it is that he is playing a rendition of Happy Birthday - a brand new experience for my ears. Being that it is off in a distance, many of the notes are distorted, turning what should be a delightful song into something a little more sinister sounding, as if it were played in a minor key.

This becomes the portal for my first complete thought: “Hearing this would be incredibly creepy in a post-apocalyptic situation. Imagine hiding out from zombies while hearing that in the background.”

Following this was a series of movie-like flashes of my small town in ruins, including that Ice Cream Man’s truck toppled over, still playing its tunes for no one.

I wish I could blame such thoughts on the weather, as it does feel and look like it may rain later, but I know the truth. My mind is a strange place to take up shelter. Like I said, I am not normal.

But quite honestly, I wouldn’t want to be.