There's a Melody in My Mind...
...and it's not going away. Strings first, intruding with light persistence into thoughts of schedules and deadlines. Then horns, a bit more pushy, a bit harder to ignore. Finally, a voice. She's singing with a husky sort of assertiveness that can't be dismissed. It's no use, I can't fight it any more.

I never want to get to a point in my life where work is more important than Ella Fitzgerald. I never want to lose sight of the fact that art, music, and literature should always matter more to me than endless meetings and pointless bureaucracy. And I never want to get to the point where Ella's voice, Django's guitar, Pablo Neruda's words, or Van Eyck's art fail to remind me of what is good and beautiful in the world.

Granted, THE COMPANY THAT SHALL NOT BE MENTIONED would shudder with disappointment that I actually feel art is more important than software, but that's ok. Because today, Ella is singing just for me. And I actually kinda feel sorry for those who just don't get it.