I used to love my mind and the music it had constantly playing in the background.
I think the person who invented elevator music was probably one of us. I mean, music, just playing, constantly, to keep you calm or keep you from getting bored with the ride? How clever.
It’s like a sound track for the trip from one floor to another
And remember mall music … back when we could go to the mall … that was similar, though it was contrived to keep loiterers from loitering and to keep shoppers moving so they wouldn’t over think their shopping decisions.
So what’s on my mind?
I have no idea who controls the music in my head. There are times when I tune in to it and listen all day long, and there are times when my mind is stuck on one segment of a line and it plays it over and over.
And the worst part is that the second time I heard it on the old cranial PA I had already grown to hate it.
It gets so much worse. It’s an ear worm. But I externalize what’s in my mind. I spend a lot of time alone, and I talk to myself, a lot, out loud, hey, don’t judge. So now it’s an ear worm that is outside my head
I remember one time I was putting some flooring down in my mother’s house, and I had some song stuck in my head. I was concentrating on measurements and cutting, and it was playing over and over, not the whole song, just the last half of the chorus.
About half way through the job I became aware that I was singing it out loud. I tried to stop, but I had to keep returning my attention to the task at hand. Every time I did that I let my guard down and the words and melody started to flow out of my mouth again.
I bellowed out the words, at the top of my lungs, adding vulgar expletives and rude adjectives into the lyrics.
My mother, in the next room, laughed at my trauma. I looked out through the door, angry at my predicament, and saw that she understood completely. I couldn’t help myself, I laughed with her.
It went away. Oddly enough when that particular song comes up in the rotation, I only remember the one part with the worst swearing and once I’ve recited it, my brain moves on.
I love my mind. I love the things it does. I love that it reels out these words I write and still in the background the music plays. When I’m tired of listening I turn on the radio and that takes over.
But I don’t need the radio most of the time. My mind spins tracks all day long. And when it gets into a rut, I know now how to fix it.
And I know some really great swear words these days.