Every woman has a constant, running list going through her head at all times of random things. What to pick up at the grocery store. How long it's been since she went for a run. How much sleep she's going to get in the next few days.

Just to name a few.

So, you would hope that a night out to see a band might help clear out some of these random thoughts from my own head, at least for an hour or so. We're talking the band Dinosaur Jr., whose album I purchased about 15 years ago, when I was in high school and doing my best to try and hang out in the band's hometown of Amherst, Mass.

Granted, "The Wagon" was really my only favorite song by them, and I mainly used it as something for mix tapes for friends. Something that said "Look how alternative and cool I am while also acknowledging these guys from Amherst." Or something like that.

But I never got to see them live. So, as luck would have it, the guys reunite 15 years later for a reunion tour, stopping by the 40 Watt Club in Athens. I chugged a cup of coffee and headed downtown for a little nostalgia.

OK, so first note to any band who is planning on a reunion tour 15 years after its big album: Don't make us wait 30 minutes to get up on the stage. We're not 15 anymore, we all have jobs and it's a Monday night. Your gear is set and it's 12:45 a.m. LET'S GO.

Then, the lists started...

Let's see. I could start that story for Monday's Life page with an anecdote ...

ACK! The lists are starting again! Must focus on the concert...

Let's see. Do I know anyone here? Looking around I spot -- my hairdresser who I haven't seen in more than a few months! Should I say hi? Is he going to think I'm ignoring him?

I should really call for that haircut tomorrow morning. Maybe I can get in this weekend...

ACK! OK, focus...

By the time Dinosaur Jr took to the stage, my mind was in complete disarray. Then the moshing started, and two overly estatic guys wormed their way in front of me and started madly jumping up and down. Then I got kicked, and someone tried to grab my shirt, I believe in a poorly executed attempt to shield me from the mosh pit.

Then a fight broke out to my right, just as the mosh pit firmly planted itself to my left.

OK. You know what? We're done here. 

My feet hurt, the vocals aren't nearly loud enough and Sofia's going to wake up in less than five hours. I have diapers to pick up and hair appointments to make and stories to write.

ACK! Back to focusing on life...