Thinking about nothing in particular, I shut my car door and stepped up the two stairs leading to the creaky side-door to my home and shouldered it open. I slid my keys, wallet and phone out of my pockets and laid them in the small, teak bowl my boss had brought home from Hawaii a couple of years ago. I slipped off my shoes, placed them in my closet, and sat down at the desk in my bedroom.

I still felt like I was on auto-pilot. "Every day I do the same thing," I thought. "The same commute, the same routine, it's the same day as yesterday." I felt like I was floating above my body, watching as I followed the same routine.

Only now, I was breaking tradition. Instead of opening my email to see if I'd gotten any new and urgent messages since I last checked on my phone as I parked my car, I opened my iTunes account. It was like breaking out of a plaster mold and stretching my arms, neck and back for the first time. As it loaded, I chose a song at random and turned up the volume. Then a bit louder, and louder still.

Suddenly, I was uneasy. I felt my discomfort growing by the second. I was uncomfortable, and embarrassed. The Ying Yang Twins were shouting now from my speakers, "WAIT TIL YOU SEE MY DICK! WAIT TIL YOU SEE MY DICK" over and over and over. I wanted to turn down the volume, to unplug my speakers, to rip the power cord from the wall, but I was helpless. I was on auto-pilot again, but this time conscious. Like a mind trapped in a paralyzed body, I watched myself again from above.

I trudged out of my room and slid my phone and keys from the teak bowl. As I pulled open the side-door to my home, I could hear several cars on my block blaring Kaine and D-Roc's warning: "WAIT TIL YOU SEE MY DICK!"

I was fully aware of my bewildered neighbors standing in their yard, arms full of groceries and faces full of terror as I begrudingly yanked open the car door and groped around my console for the adapter. I could feel my face turning red in embarassment as I tapped around the screen and turned the car's ignition switch. I sat in the car, eardrums pounding. I could see my neighbor's kid in his car, the same terror in his eyes as his mother failed to shout over the blaring noise. I could tell there were 2 or three more of us within a couple of blocks. I knew they sat in there cars and houses, just as disgusted and powerless as me.

It wasn't until hours later that I found out how many of us had been affected - and why. It seems the aliens had a favorite song. And I needed to update my music library.