You're all set with your kiwi, it's drying nicely in the oven, so let's check on some tunes to make the next seven hours go as fast as possible.
"Losing It" by Rose Avenue sounds like a sink full of bowls and a cabinet void of them. It's handful after handful of breakfast cereal shoved straight into your mouth (no filler). "Losing It" is the soy milk that is poured directly from the carton into your mouth, that falls down your chin and onto the floor. It is the neighbor who rings your doorbell and says something hilarious about your car's flat tire. It was such a hilarious statement that you lose your cereal all over your welcome mat and immediately call for your kid to bring her stuffed animal to clean up the mess while you go get a shot of kiwi flavored kombucha. It is being a professional football player, getting pulled over for driving under the influence, and blaming it all on that kiwi kombucha.
In non foodie terms, "Losing It" is like reliving the best day of your life, remembering your greatest friends and telling your teacher to stuff it over and over for four minutes and seven seconds.
Next up is the heartbreaking single "Tree Trunks" from Basement Revolver. The song was written by lead singer Chrisy Hurn when she started experience panic attacks for the first time. She felt an increasing need to find someone, someone professional, who could teach her better ways to cope. The song also mirrors how she imagines the environment to feel. This is partially due to the fact that the environment is tied to a lot of people's mental health. Chrisy was able to find the help she needed and now she is passing that experience on to you. In her own words, "I would encourage everyone to go after the mental health resources that are available to them."
I'm going to go ahead and add my two cents, therapeutic cooking. Try it out. If nothing else, your kitchen will smell great and you just might create something worth eating.
Olivia O' Brien's "RIP" (pronounced R.I.P not rip) is about those people in your life who are important to you (or who you are romantically invested in) that switch things up and become something you don't recognize anymore. That old version of them, the one you knew, is dead and gone and won't be back.
In kiwi terms, "RIP" is like when you put that shit in the oven for seven hours, even though the temp is only 170. When it comes out you won't even recognize it. That juicy, vibrant fruit has been replaced by a wrinkly, chewy, shriveled thing.