hmmm. ok then, I've got a few minutes. It hits different people
differently but this is how it was for me.
With only a fraction of the time I used to have to listen to music I
started missing out on new discoveries in record shops, which led to a
falling away of the formerly all-consuming passion I had for the music.
I stopped going out and consequently found myself easing painfully away
from the whole clubbing way of life. It became an occasional treat
rather than my default weekend activity. My childless mates found it all
very interesting and admirable but come Saturday night they were off out
and were often too knackered to do anything on Sundays so I kind of
drifted away from some of them. In a nutshell, all the time, effort and
money I was once able to devote to music, going out, clothes,
socialising and the like were sucked up in a thoughtless instant by this
curious new object in the corner with his unquenchable thirst and
unending demands. And then another one came along and the whole thing
exploded. We thought one was demanding! Ha! We knew nothing! And
sometimes I want to open the window and chuck both of them into the sea,
to walk away and pretend none of it ever happened, to go out with my
kid-free mates and large it on some blurry, PLUR-ry dancefloor swapping
smiles and hugs and knowing nods of musical appreciation with all the
other fluffy punters.
But only sometimes, and never for long. Because I've also discovered
depths of love I dared not imagine possible before kids; I've discovered
a magnificent new side of myself I'd not even glimpsed before; I've
finally worked out what it means to truly regard someone else's
interests as more important than my own and I continue to revel in what
that's done to my sense of purpose, well-being and self-esteem. It was
the best thing I ever did.
Dance music? pah!