This is how it went down:
Once upon a time I made a mix that was so depressing I had to hide it away under a couch cushion and pray I forgot about it for the sake of my emotional sanity.
Which i did!
Cut to - 7 months in the future as I rifle through said couch cushions for quarters to do my laundry and all manner of objects get refound. Twizzlers. Dvd remote. $1.62. And the mix of devastation.
I gave it a fresh listen. I really couldn't figure out why I had gotten so worked up over it in the first place, it wasn't even really that good. It was promptly chucked onto my coffee table and I went to dry my underwear.
In my daily flurry of morning lateness I ran out the door with my mail and sent it off without looking at what I was doing. The mix of ultimate despair got inadvertently sealed in a little red envelope and mailed back to Netflix.
Three days later when I think I'm opening up Microcosmos it's actually my cd, accompanied by a note.
I think it may be impossible for you to read so I shall recreate it for you. Ahem:
"dear you -
i hope youre not mad we waited an extra day to ship back your cd because we were listening to it in the office. by the end of the day at least one person was crying.
-b"
First off, how the hell does this happen. Second, was the jawbreaker reference intentional? Who is this mysterious "b"? Do i feel great or horrible that I accidentally ruined someones day completely? so many questions. no answers.
The letter gets an honorary spot on the 'ol fridge regardless.
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