Changing Tracks (every day in May)

You really know you're old when you can sing all the words to every song on Coles radio and you don't even work there.

Recently, in aisle five, I had a bit of a moment. A song came on and I flashed back to the late nineties, imagining my pre-kid, pre-serious-career, pre-adult life.

Most of the songs I love from the nineties are pretty sad. Think Lisa Loeb, REM, U2, The Verve. It was a pretty sad time for me - I had a lot going on in the nineties and for much of it I was pretty much alone. As in literally. Not just locked up in my bedroom like a normal teenager but actually out on my own, feeling a bit lost and orphaned. Stony broke, hungry and if my flatmate had forgotten to pay the electricity again, often in the dark. I'm still not sure how he forgot so often - he worked at the post office!

This song, however, is a bright sliver of happiness from *my* nineties. It's from the 'good end' of the decade. It came out at a point in time where I had sort of worked out who I was and who I wanted to be. Sure, I'd made some fairly hefty mistakes, but in amongst that world of hurt, I'd also worked out some direction. I was working hard toward my goal and I had a plan. Not to mention a beautiful person who loved me despite the scrappy, prickly exterior I was currently sporting (and who's still here today, probably still removing my barbs from his gorgeous self).

 

Bachelor Girl: Lucky me.

When you start by counting your blessings, things seem a lot brighter.

"I have a great car, it's a red convertible... made by Mattel.."

This song reminded me that things don't have to be perfect for you to feel ok every single time I played it in my crappy old Honda. It was a Civic just a few years off vintage - close enough that I often had to retrace my steps looking for bits of my exhaust but not close enough that I could claim cheaper rego. I had a screwdriver jammed into the window to keep the glass from falling down. Sometimes, when it rained, mushrooms would pop up in the old carpet in my boot.

But you know what? It was mine and I was happy. My life was (and always will be) a crazy work in progress and I was (and am) determined to find the silver lining in every insanity it brings my way. Lucky me, indeed!