When today’s writing prompt popped up it was like a little cartoon lightbulb suddenly blinked into being above my head, I was *that* certain of the album I would pick. Ordinarily I’m a bit of an indecisive sorta gal with a tendency to over-analyse. In fact, I’m still trying to compile a list of my top 5 films from when someone asked me back in 1989 ( which, now I’ve brought it up I’ll be adding to the top of the already precariously teetering pile of things I obsess about ). Books are the same… out of the thousands I’ve read how can I single just a handful out for their excellence? That would be like having to choose between my children ( though it’s 9.30pm and right now whichever one goes to sleep first would get my coveted “Most Adored Offspring” award ).
But one single album? Easy.
Let me give you a bit of background…
I’m 22 and after a few years of jumping between jobs ( not all have been abandoned because I attempted to saw off a digit I hasten to add ), I settle down in lovely new job as a veterinary nurse in a busy London vet hospital. And it’s brilliant! Sure, some of the people suck, but you can pretty much take that as read in any job that someone’s going to get your goat at some point. I’m training, I’m learning, I’m performing minor surgery, I’m analysing x-rays ( I’m also occasionally snogging one of the ambulance drivers in the x-ray room when no-one else is around, but that’s just between us, yeah? 😉 ) but mostly I’m making sick animals better for people who can’t afford the extortionate private vet fees… so I’m like a little chubby saint in a tight green uniform and an over-starched apron. I’m loving it.
Then, to add icing and a cherry to the Cake Of Fabulous Situations, they offer me a room at the nursing home next door to the hospital! So to recap : a) Great Job… and now b) I get to move out of my parent’s house! c) No more travelling! d) I only have to get up 10 minutes before my shift starts and I’m home 10 minutes after it ends !! and e) Lots and lots of overtime when the nurses next door are asked to come in at the last minute to cover illness… Win win win all round.
Ok, lovely… but where does the album come in…?
It’s my first weekend after I’ve moved in and the horrific price of groceries has hit me. I’ve been living off pasta for 5 days, and the noise from the dogs barking next door is like some sort of bizarre canine-influenced metronome that marks the passing of every minute. I’ve been allocated the smallest room at the end of a narrow corridor next to the downstairs loo, and one of the other nurses has a dog that free roams the place and piddles on the communal sofa.
I’m totally adoring every second.
That Saturday evening I’m lying on my little bed. It’s Summer, but there’s a slight breeze and a light cooling drizzle.. so I have the window open so I can hear the raindrops fall upon the leaves directly outside. I’m propped up on pillows, eating my pasta by the last light of the day, and this is playing :
For me, Seal sounds like freedom, and every single time I listen to that first album I can feel the breeze upon my face. It’s potential, possibilities, free-falling into the future with total reassurance that everything will be ok.