Dear Phantom Reader,
As I’m sure I’ve mentioned (repeatedly), I almost always listen to music when I work and write. What I listen to depends greatly on the kind of work and writing I’m doing. If it’s boring, boring, just-give-me-the-money-baby work, I tend to play upbeat stuff to bring up my energy so I can get the job done quickly, although well (I def. have internalized the protestant work ethic…). If I’m writing stuff I want to write (i.e., my own fiction), I usually listen to the master playlist, For Pheeps, which has all kinds of tunes on it. But I’ve gotten sick of the playlist recently and have started listening to albums instead.
I love that Spotify takes over for my hole-filled brain and starts playing similar songs when the album is over. I’ve recently made some cool discoveries that way, such as the following:
(Actually, I know this one, but I haven’t heard it in years and years.)
And now this one to describe the tragic state of my Swiss cheese brain. All I can say is, thank god for Google calendar or I’d probably forget everything. Yikes! Rebeccah needs a vacation…again.
Hope you are well-vacationed, muh dear!
p.s. I mean only the brain being a sieve part, not the someone treating me bad part. The people in my life treat me rather well, actually. Hurrah!
p.p.s. I just remembered that this song (which is worse than I remember it being. Can you say white boy, Huey Lewis and the News-esque reggae?) first taught me the word sieve. Before that I called it that thingy you use to drain water from spaghetti. Wait, isn’t short term memory the first to go? Why is my brain space being wasted on Thomas Dolby-related memories?? Yikes!
Now take it away Huey.
p.p.p.s. Actually, it’s not hip to be square. Should we tell him?
Am digging those mullets though. 1986 4-ever.
(Now there’s a nightmare for you!)