I think I may have forgotten how to write.

I’ve woken up with an earworm.

‘‘Hello, it’s me
I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet.’’

But when I look up the lyrics they bear no relation to what’s in my head. To be fair when I sing along it has no relation to Adele either – who knew?

Do you get earworms? Music stuck in your head that won’t go away. My husband is particularly susceptible to suggestion and when he is really annoying me I deliberately ask him if he remembers a particular song. (He has an encyclopaedic memory of which synth was used by whatever 80s pop combo.) Now, thinking of ways to wind him up I have Happy Talk by Captain Sensible running around my head – it’s a double-edged sword.

So, I’m back! (all Gloria Gaynor now – one of my best memories was going to a protest against Domestic Violence in Trafalgar Square and 250,000 women singing along at the top of their voices – gave me goosebumps.)

My time away has mostly been spent being poorly on the sofa – think Talking Heads Road to Nowhere. I missed you all. Well, that’s not entirely true as I don’t know you. But I missed writing. I’ve missed myself writing, if that makes any sense?

Now it’s Kylie – Can’t Get You Out Of My Head. Only I think it’s my own head I can’t get out of. Writing pulls everything up, swirls it all around in my brain and then reorders it, putting things back on the shelf a bit tidier. Does that make sense?

I’m currently writing a memoir. I think I may have gotten a little lost.

Husband suggests No One Here Gets Out Alive- The Doors

He’s interrupting the writing (or as he calls it, bringing a cup of tea.) I threaten Captain Sensible – he replies with The Damned, New Rose and goes on to explain the link, singing to himself as I bat him away.  

Prince sneaks in with his ‘Raspberry Beret’ as I worry that I’ve lost the ability to write this blog.

‘It seems that I was busy doing something close to nothing
But different than the day before,’

Shut up Prince! – Go on in through the outdoor!

It’s funny isn’t it, how music punctuates our lives, holding us in a time and space that we can return to in a flash? The music we played at my son’s funeral – Lou Reed, Perfect Day, brings with it the taste of cigarettes and the hole in my chest. Meeting my husband is all Solsbury Hill and The Lightening Seeds, Pure.

Common People was when I found the grown-up version of myself after the turmoil of those late teen years. Big Time Sensuality found me dancing around my kitchen, Close To Me,  played loud as the kids jumped up and down. Dark smoky nights with Glory box.

Even writing my novel had its own playlist – a talisman of Belinda Carlisle songs -‘Ooh baby, do you know what love’s worth?’  No wrong one! I mean Brandi Carlile – ‘All these lines across my face, tell you the story of who I am!’

Maybe writing to you should have its own soundtrack – a bit of Sam Smith suddenly snuck in there, ‘I’m gonna Pray.’ I’m sure he’s a lovely man but he’s not much luck in love. George Michael as an antidote, but I’m not sure Faith gets us any further.

How about, Don’t Rain On My Parade, Streisand?

This Is Me – The Greatest Showman?

Dog Days Are Over – Florence and the machine?

Anti-hero – Taylor Swift.  ‘It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me’

Your So Vain – Carly Simon

Anyway, Don’t Leave Me This Way, with wandering tunes filling up my head.

Don’t Look back in Anger, I’ll be back to my normal writing next week.

Here are some tunes to keep you company

I have missed you!