le-Bigs

As I monotoned my way through a slew of scanning this morning - pottery drawings for a certain ceramically prolific excavation I work for - suddenly my music genome radio station was all silence.

and a pepper grinder.

and a base line.

and a conga.

Buenvenidos, Senor Santana. A which point I kicked the desk over, tore up the inked transparency paper, and began gyrating in a latin frenzy throughout the museum, knocking over, among others, a copper tablet from Nuzi, a few vintage field photographs (various archaeo-celebrities ho-humming about something on the ground, beyond the picture frame), and an egyptian doorjamb from the temple of Amun at Karnak (which required a particularly vigorous twist which seems to have thrown my hip out of socket again).
Then I decided mondays aren't always so bad.