Hell was less than 2 steps away from my bathtub

I'm not sure if you have a classical music playlist, but I do, and I love it.

Any time I import classical music, or anything that's strictly instrumental, I dump it into my classical music playlist.  Occasionally there's a rude surprise - usually someone making intelligible sounds - and I remove it immediately.  The playlist's purpose is primarily for writing.  I almost always listen to terrible rap music while writing, lovely songs like "Big Pimpin'" and "Gunwalk."  I gobble up all silly and appalling rap music and my brains spits it back out in poetry.  Once I reach the final stages of editing, though, I like music that's entirely devoid of language.  None of that, "I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one" stuff. I'm talking Beats Antique, A.R. Rahman, and pretty much all trailer music.  Silence occasionally works, but music is as necessary as my heartbeat. Sometimes I even confuse the two sounds.

I love my classical music playlist and occasionally listen to it while enjoying long bubble baths. During a recent bubble bath I played my classical music playlist on shuffle.  As I lazily flipped through the latest Oprah magazine, my music calmly progressed through Max Richter, Chopin, and George Winston.

All of a sudden this song came on and I nearly flooded the bathroom and injured myself when I leapt several feet into the air.


(Two Steps From Hell - All the King's Horses)

After I calmed myself down, wrung out my magazine, and mopped up the bathroom I realized that maybe I need to have another classical music playlist.  One that plays only calm classical music.  

I keep coming back to this song though.  I prepare myself for it - wear a helmet, make sure I'm nowhere near the bathtub, hold my hand over my heart to keep it from flying out - you know the drill.

And then I crank up the volume and let it rip.  I can't get enough of it.