So 2 weeks ago it happened again. I ran out of new favorite songs.
This is one tireless cycle- Find some new songs on Spotify’s What’s New -> Play them over and over; one song more than others -> Get bored in approximately 3 days -> Crib about the lack of new songs to everyone you meet -> Back to Spotify.
In one of these searches, I found this song I Do Adore by Mindy Gledhill. I am basically sold to any song that starts with this typical country strum. This one had that and a very-light-happy-summer-morning-y feel to it.
And as the words of the song flow out –
‘And trip on my shoelaces. Grace just isn’t my forté‘, I begin chewing on my lower lip, guilty as if my inner clumsy was let bare. As the song ended, my bloggy bug prodded me to write something about this song but I didn’t have a story!
That night I was returning after shopping on my bicycle. The weather was perfect. It wasn’t crowded anywhere, barring the extensive construction in my city. The day had been uneventful, dull; just the way I want every day to be. One thought in my head led to another finally leading to the realisation that I couldn’t remember a person’s name, however hard I tried. This basically leads to PANIC up here in my head. In this very tense situation, I paddled ahead absentmindedly, when suddenly the front tyre skid on some rainwater and comfortably jammed itself in a tram track, catapulting me off the bike. While I was mid-air (which was some really tiny fraction of a second) I wasn’t effing but exclaiming ‘AWESOME’. What really was surprising was that I really meant the word awesome because now I had a story to blog about!
Somehow my reflex system had done it’s job and I got off with a few bruises here and there. But of course I gathered a crowd; some of them asking me if I was alright and others just adding number to the crowd. The only response to the inquiries I could manage was one inaudible ‘thank you’, making my way away from the spotlight. They totally would have thought I was some mannerless doofus but honestly once embarrassed, it doesn’t quite matter how bad it gets after.
The next day while talking to my mother, I had quipped that the song was my personal anthem. Ya maybe I can say that because the song speaks for me more than it speaks to me.