Music has the ability to change my mood in a heartbeat, increase productivity and make a party fabulous. It is a must have at the gym, a necessary luxury at work and an easy way to create your image.
Over the years I've dabbled in instruments, ranging from pianos to trombones, clarinets to accordions, drums to guitars.
When my life derails, music is the thing that picks me up and pushes me to go forward.
This is why, when I hit university I vowed to build my music collection and fill my bedroom with band posters - bands that I knew and loved, bands that I deserved to show my love for.
I got to work early and by the end of my first year at Trent University I had weaselled my way into a group of music junkies, started dating a hot DJ and more than doubled my music collection. I had my albums organized according to use - serious projects and papers needed serious albums (enter Our Lady Peace and The Doors), gym going requires energy (um, hello Dance Mix '92-'95) and party going requires some pump up tunes (how I love French Affair) while applying makeup and sipping wine.
As the years went on my roommates all turned into DJs or writers of some sort. One loved folk, the other wrote rap rhymes, there was an 80's guy and that hot DJ was still kicking around. Somehow, with all these different tastes three of the four boys created a band in our basement. The 80's guy taught me the basics on a bass guitar (I have manly fingers, what can I say).
Our house was known for blasting move in music out our windows with massive amps during student move-in week. We hosted coffee houses, keg parties and had more musical acts sleep on our couches than I can remember. I even partied on the tour bus with Default after a hard night at work. My music collection grew to unimaginable proportions and I was happy as a clam. I was musical.
Are you a pop girl? A rocker chick? Maybe a morose metal head, whatever you are the music you listen to defines you. Even if all you do is rock to the radio, that tells me something about you.
So there I was, recently graduated, exploring the new (and real) world; all with my music backing me.
Then my apartment exploded and I lost it all (a common theme). My music was lost and I felt like a part of me had gone missing too. The boys and groups I had partied with had scattered as everyone does after university and I was lost.
I spent months trying to find my footing. Then, the other day, it hit me. I realized I really didn't like me, I didn't like who I had become. My music was gone and I was miserable.
I made the decision that to get over this whole apartment fire I needed to surround myself with music. I needed that familiar friend pushing me to go forward. I had to look, where in my life was music lacking? At the gym? Nope, my MP3 player is stocked. At home? Certainly not. Work? Not so easy. There is no music at work, not a note.
Not only was there no music at work there was only yelling. How could I continue to work at a place that is missing music, in melodies or metaphorical form? There was no success at that place, only unpleasantness.
So, I quit. Yes, here I sit, technically unemployed (I prefer the title temporary housewife). I don't know what kind of job I want but I know I want music. I want at least a little radio on the desk or a little love during the day.
My job was wholly unpleasant for a number of reasons. I worked soft collections for a major financial institution. I hate fighting with people and even more, I hate repossessing houses. I hated taking away the homes when the feeling was so fresh in my mind. The straw that broke the camel's back? NO MUSIC. They could have at least given me a radio to perk me up as my client was smashing me down.
So I guess my question is: are you hiring? Will you let me play some music? I promise to be quiet and I have a huge selection to choose from! If you are really nice, I'll even let you control remote (now that's love).