I moved to Atlanta at the end of January; my first day at work was 8 days after I received my offer. Even as I transitioned into my mature, adult life, it was still flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants crazy. This was either extremely fitting or entirely necessary, but either way I loved it and it worked. I moved into my apartment in February, my brother helped me move some stuff down later that month, and by the time I returned from my 30th birthday party in March, I had acquired a bed, some dishes, and some furniture. A used couch and sweet TV (I rationalized that purchase somehow, but I won’t bore you with those details), would soon follow. Now that I was finally ‘settled’, it was time for a routine. The longer you have known me, the better you understand the mental exercise it takes for me to get through a day; the more I can reduce menial tasks to auto-pilot the better.
My routine consists of two basic tenants: music and counting. The first thing I do when I wake up is walk from my bed to my stereo in the living room (I have a tiny place; this is 12 steps). I have already selected the music during the 30-60 minutes I lay in bed doing 3 things: thinking about the previous day, figuring out what today looks like, and talking to God. There is no rhyme or reason to which of those activities get the most time. I let my brain wander, I am at my happiest in the morning. Great days are even better, and terrible days are OK as long as I am there. I will never be closer to God than at the beginning of my day. Everything will be OK, and that is enough for me.
So I select my music, and it fills my apartment (more on the actual selections in a minute). Then I brush my teeth, step on the scale, and get ready for work. I usually eat cereal, but sometimes if I am in a hurry I’ll do a pop tart. Then I look at my list of things to do and make sure I am in order. I take my iPod and put in the earphones and unplug it from my stereo; the music flow is un-interrupted.
Then I count to 5. I will count to 5 many more time today. I need 5 things on a work day, 4 on a weekday or if I go out. They are phone (most important), wallet, keys, glasses, and badge. Since I have started working, I have yet to go to work without these 5 things. You know why? I always count to 5. Every time I leave one place for another, I count to 5. Even if I need to remember to take my green portfolio (which I do almost every day), I only grab that after I count to 5. Portfolio and iPod are luxury items. I can’t risk the system on luxury items. Plus the important thing about 5 is it counts 5 specific things. Sometimes I leave my portfolio in the car. Sometimes my iPod is in my portfolio if I go out right after work. I don’t need variables, I need a system. And it never changes. I have been counting to 5 (or 4 on weekends b/c I don’t need my badge) for 4 months, and it has not let me down.
My old shrink was a fan of systems. According to her, the key to managing my life was to do a better job controlling the things I could control. The theory being, if I didn’t have to stress about losing my keys, trying to understand my mother’s behavior would be less frustrating. I think she was right. Of course the key with systems is to not obsess about them. That’s why I am writing about this one. It works for me, but I don’t love it. It provides some level of functionality, but I don’t need it. Some years ago, I had a little fun with some OCD behavior. That got a little crazy. To recap, it’s all about balance.
I can tell you this, it is quite fun being obsessive AND whatever you call someone with similar behavior to ADHD (I took that test and it was bullshit, plus if you are dating the counselor and she’s trying to prove you’re crazy, isn’t that a conflict of interest or something?) Let’s just say the voices inside my head are always having a great time. You think you can’t obsess and be easily distracted at the same time. Ha. Just keep reading.
So we are almost 800 words in and I am just getting to the point of this blog. This is precisely why I will never be a great writer. I can never just get to the point. I would feel naked if I just started talking about the music. Everything else in my routine is so tied into the music. Oh well, I don’t write to be read, I write to write. Carrying on (probably alone by this point).
Since I have been in Atlanta, I have been surprised at the music I have chosen to take me to work. At night when I am home, my musical taste returns to the norm, and make s a lot of sense. But the morning has been dominated by 3 albums: Lady Gaga’s “The Fame”, Michael Buble’s “Call Me Irresponsible”, and Kings of Leon “Only By the Night”. Of the 100 or so days I have worked thus far, I would say 75-85 have been represented by 1 of those 3. And that is only so ‘low’ because Band of Horses got a significant run leading up to their show, (although I listened to “Cease to Begin” 10 times more than “Everything All the Time”).
When I get home at night its back to normal: Arcade Fire, The Format, Death Cab, The Killers, Santagold, Black Eyed Peas, Prince, and even ‘cough’ O.A.R. You know, the usuals. I got into the Essex Green, I rediscovered OK Go, and I tried out some Paul Simon (enjoyed it). I have listened to all of the Radiohead records in order at least 3 times, and compared “The Joshua Tree” to “Achtung Baby” twice. You get the point. But why gives with my morning music?
Well, first of all, the album has several jobs. It has to be inspiring as it is the first thing I do after I get up. Get me through the teeth brushing, getting ready for work, and breakfast. Then, it has to last for a 10 minute drive to my parking spot. Finally, it needs to provide the soundtrack for my ‘big girl in the big city’ walk through downtown and to my office. This is a tall order. I love my mornings, and for some reason those 3 albums do it for me.
Lady Gaga is easy. She satisfies my not-so-secret love of pop music in a very special way. I was too young for Madonna, too old for Brittany, and too musically insecure for anyone else before or after (like Fergie whose album I acquired in secret after the fact). Now that I have embraced my love of Journey, Billy Joel, and Taylor Swift, I am free to rock out to the over-produced sounds of a certifiably insane chick whose particular style of sold-out-to-the-masses pop styling appeals to me in a very real way. Until now, I have never owned a truly ‘pop’ record during the 15 minutes it was at all relevant. I kinda want to put her poster on my wall. In a very weird way, listening to Lady Gaga is a very real form of self-acceptance. No I am not rationalizing. I really meant that in a completely unironic way (thank you Chuck Klosterman).
Kings of Leon? If you don’t know me, they make sense. If you do, then you would understand that they are in that perfect range of cliché-cool that I avoid. Lady Gaga is so pop that no one would confuse my love of her with an attempt to be cool. Kings of Leon is the type of band that people with no musical taste can latch on to. I may never be cool, but I try very hard not to look like someone who is trying to be cool. Kings of Leon is also the type of band that people with amazing musical taste will dismiss out of hand because of the aforementioned reasons. They are very ‘hate-able’. Being that I am not a music snob, but at times can be found is such circles, I try to avoid hate-able bands, lest I be marginalized to the point that I am crying in the corner trying to explain the significance of “Kid A” relative to other rock bands who could never escape their previous success. Bottom line: I just really, really like “Only By the Night” that much, and that’s that. And it works great for my morning.
Funny enough, this blog was supposed to be about Michael Buble. In fact, that is why I am not changing the title of this one. I don’t write blogs, they write me. What’s the significance of Buble (other than his entirely odd inclusion into my morning music of course)? Well, the point of my morning music is that I like to getthrough an entire album. I am an album guy in general. When I listen to albums I often skip the radio songs I am tired of. Occasionally I’ll give Lady Gaga’s ‘Paparazzi’ a double spin if I am particularly in the mood, but I rarely ever repeat songs. Except with “Call me Irresponsible”. Track 6 is a song called “Lost” and every time I get to that I repeat it over and over and over again. Just this morning I listened to it 6 times in a row. Needless to say I rarely finish the album by the time I get to work.
You would think that after some 100+ listens I would know the song backwards and forwards. Fact is, I don’t actually know what it means. I am sure it is entirely simplistic lyrically. I just love each individual part; I never put the whole song together into a complete thought. That, and when I listen, I don’t know if I am the singer or the listener. The first verse is obviously about a break-up of some sort, and the chorus is most certainly about being together. In fact, Buble is quite clear that, ‘baby you’re not lost’ throughout the entire song.
I think it is his confidence that gets me. He is quite certain that everything is going to be OK. Certain enough that he can most assuredly convince another individual that he is so put together, than she has nothing to worry about. In fact, not only can he say that she is not lost (presumably as long as he is around), but in the unlikely event she does get lost, ‘then we’ll get lost together’. Even being lost is reassuring. And that’s why I don’t exactly know what the entire song is about. By the second verse I completely distracted by my own thoughts and I am so inspired by his confidence that I’m not even sure he wants to get back together. For all I know he is just letting her know what she is missing and he is just a huge tool.
And as he whispers his final ‘so baby you’re not looooost’ ba-da-di-da-da…I hit repeat to try and figure it out this time. And I never do. So I decided today that I would write about it. And it took me almost 2,000 words, just to
not make a point. Funny thing is, I wrote a different blog on Saturday, and decided I would wait to post it because I didn’t know exactly where it was going. Figured I’d just throw up a short-quick one to get the week started. I’m so lost.
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