The thing I thought was five flats. I’m still not sure what it is. All I know is that I can’t even easily hum it to myself. I’m not going to put it in cold storage yet; I will charitably observe that things have been stressful for a while, so there is a good chance that that is just burning me out at the moment.
But I have about as much emotional attachment to this thing as I have to the butter wrapper that I threw out yesterday.
I need to just noodle a bit and not care what comes out.