The 9 Days

Have spent significant portion of evening complaining to M. that lack of music was making my life Hell. Realize this is, indeed, the point, and, in that spirit, experience surge of hope that Moshiach will really arrive tomorrow. Spend rest of evening pondering whether the music I like will still be allowed. (Have concealed from enthusiastic guests of circa 2 Shabbosim ago that home-made challa was produced to the accompaniment of Black Sabbath, as they seem the sort to think I should have been thinking mystical and uplifting thoughts instead.)