Morning Train

🚉 I get Sheena Easton's "Morning Train" stuck in my head.
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A lot.
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I've been doing so since I first heard it play on my little sister's pink Sharp QT-5 boombox, you know, the one with the rounded corners. She had the mono version, so just the one speaker on the right with the radio dial on the far left running vertically.
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It was in the shared bathroom of my newly-single mother's townhouse.
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I can picture that little tape player so clearly — it is covered with toothpaste spray and probably has a mix tape in it. A color pink that's really more a faded peach than anything, and there's tubes of the Mondrian-inspired Studio hair gel by L'Oreal next to it.
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It is the second part of the song that gets stuck in my head, the "he works from nine to five and then" part — and not the much better part that's earlier in the song; "Night time is the right time. We make love—then it's his and my time."
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I'm not sure why I'm telling you this.
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Not sure why I'm telling you all this on a social media platform I'm growing increasingly weary of, under a picture of a beautiful lighthouse I took last year while driving down the coast.
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I guess we just all have our own ways of oversharing, sometimes, and this is mine.