The Break-up

I love music, and I love writing, but I've decided I can't love them both at the same time.

I remember in school I had friends that could write seriously with crazy pop songs streaming through their subconcious. Not so in my case *sigh*. I have to write in complete silence, because I think classical is annoying. How can I write a thrilling account of a chase while listening to Bambi music? How can I give the details of a mother-daughter reconcilliation while listening to waves crashing and tempests rising or people hunting foxes on horses? It's like a terribly confusing soundtrack rolling through my mind. And yes, that is the essence of instrumental for me: the background music. Or the on-hold music, or the music in an elevator. The music is the vehicle for the words. My husband would argue the words simply add to the music. We're chasing the foxes again, and I'm listening to music, so you see how this goes for me.

The point is, I'm supposed to be writing...so, "No, music, not today. You're going to have to be satisfied with a couple of dates over the weekend. Writing is my real relationship right now. Sorry."

I hate break-ups.