images by Max Wanger
I've been struggling to concentrate these days. I sit down at the puter with the best of intentions and within half an hour my mind is wandering hopelessly. Listening to Michael's mixes is pretty much what gets me through my work days at the moment, it's harder to wander off when you're scared you might miss something good. I tried headphones but they wouldn't do so I've high jacked the Boy's ridiculous stereo which plays them at a very pleasing level of antisocial. Suddenly sitting in front of the computer all day isn't so painful.
I start the day with Practical My Ass , which was created for Meg. I might be imagining it but when I listen to it I feel like Meg's ridiculous energy and productivity levels are being beamed straight into my brain and the feeling that no matter how long I sit here I WON'T GET ANYTHING DONE starts to fade away. I think it's the image of her doing the electric slide to 9 to 5 at her wedding that does it. (There's a really great House of Pain -> Dolly Parton -> Run DMC bit in Practical My Ass that kills me. In a good way.)
When those 40 minutes are over I'm feeling like I'm on a roll, in the groove, getting something done. Panic over, I turn on Kathryn's Guest Mix which carries me on through the day in the kind of chillaxed manner that I can usually only accomplish with prescription drugs.
It doesn't last though. By the end of this sweet mix I've been sitting infront of the computer for 80 minutes (oh poor me) and my spirits are starting to flag, my energy is dropping, I want to have a nap. And so begins Eastsidebride's New Year Mix which is kind of like washing down a couple of proplus with expresso. Good stuff.
And that my loves, is how I get through a morning's work.
Unless of course the Boy wants to listen in too, in which case we go for a bit of Yeah! Gangsta Pop which reminds him of his youth ("is it embarrassing that I know all of the words to these songs?" "yes") and makes me laugh.
Scotland really needs a Flashdance. It would be nice to catch my husband's eye across a crowded dancefloor and not see him grimace in pain as another fat middleaged bloke in a white polyester shirt murders Superstition.* crazy beautiful photos of Michael's wife and sprog by Max Wanger.