On the occasion of my first anniversary of working at the Field Museum, a playlist of songs. Fair warning, though: I make no claims to elevated taste or standards. What I listen to at work is mostly intended to help me concentrate by shutting out the world while keeping me from really noticing the music too much.
With confidence this time I tell her, and her assent—a nod, a smile, her hands squeezing mine—warms me, even on this cold, windy, late night.
Such are my pleasures these days: Miso udon soup, Green Day’s Dookie played over noise-cancelling headphones, an unannounced, open-ended project, new people to impress, finally deciding to do what I’ve been waiting all year to try.
A year ago, this was the album I constantly played as I worked my last few weeks at the hospital. My office was stripped bare, my speakers were turned up to a bold volume, and I counted the days until I left for the museum, a gig I couldn’t wait to start.
Six months ago, this was the song I rediscovered after I heard a segment on NPR praising the album. I had just gotten back from my first real web development conference and was filled with so much zeal for my job I didn’t know what to do: I ate, drank and breathed web development day in and day out.
Two days ago, I heard this song while browsing a mall with my brother, at a store that sold overpriced, pre-distressed jeans. I sat down at my desk today and stared at my monitor, unsure what to do. So I tore my desk apart, rearranging, cleaning, rewiring, until it was arranged exactly as it was a couple months ago, the last time I felt something akin to excitment for my job.
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