mood music

Ok, so I was trying to do some work while I manned the Children's Desk @ AN this morning, something that was not going well (and I didn't finish). No real surprise there. Plus between trying to get things done, multiple children/people wanting assistance, and running to the other end of the library every time the fucking bell went, my brain managed to throw Ms L into the works. This helped my mood no end, so by the time I got home I was ready for "angry" music.

Music has a big impact on my moods. I only listen to classical music while I'm driving, (anything else and I am prone to road rage/speeding). I play jazz/swing when I have people over for dinner and conversation. When I clean I play techno. When I'm fragile I play Ani diFranco. When I'm pissed off I play music appropriate to 14yr old boys, who hate the world and everyone in it (including themselves). 

So I was all set. I had the Spawn, Dracula 2000, Preaching to the Perverted, and Matrix soundtracks ready to go, mixed with some Nine Inch Nails and a little Rage Against The Machine. Before giving myself over to my music therapy I made the few phonecalls Miss R had asked to to make, and I checked the mail. Not huge, life changing tasks (thought finding someone to mow my lawn is starting to seem like the quest for the grail), but in the end I didn't need the angry music.

Now obvioulsy the gas bill wasn't going to make a huge difference to my mood, but the other piece of mail did. There seems to be a fair amount of gratitude floating around at the moment (which, given the amount of crap that has been circulating over the last six weeks, is a nice change). Last week chocolate roses, this week a card from the blood bank. 

To be fair, the nurses always say thank you each time I donate, and I don't expect a card from every single person who benefits from my donating plamsa/platelets, (38% of Australians have blood type A, so that's a hell of a lot of cards). I don't do it for recognition. I do it because it's the only way I can contribute. I never have any money to give to charity, and my schedule doesn't leave me time to volunteer, so donating for me is the best option. With that said I think I am entitled to feel a little proud that out of the 26 fortnights in a year, I donated in 24 of them. My arms may have more scar tissue that your average heroin junkie, and three quarters of the nurses may hide until I'm actually hooked up to the machine (the scar tissue makes getting the neddle into me rather challenging), but it's worth it.

No matter how big an arsehole people may think I am, or how terrible they may believe I've made their lives, the two hours I spend in that chair every other Thursday makes a huge difference to people all over the country (and their families).

And that feels fucking awesome.