On days where I forget to take my iPod (affectionally referred to as an “ippid”) with me, I feel like I’ve lost a limb.

Where I’m used to walking in time to a thumping beat, or waltzing through crowds to some dulcet tones of my own choosing, or strutting along like I’m in a movie (more specifically, in the scene where everything good is about to happen), all I can hear is ugly noise.

So it’s a good thing I didn’t leave my iPod at home today. In fact, I haven’t left it at home all week.

No. I’ve lost it.

I used to ask myself “What if you’re missing out on things in the real world, all for the sake of having a soundtrack?”

This week, I’ve had a chance to answer that question.

On buses you have the gravelly growl of unkempt public transport, corporate types trying to outdo each other’s dad-jokes, and high-pitched phone calls about sensitive medical conditions. In elevators there are choirs of nasal voices, on streets there are people trying to spruik credit cards at you, and in shops there’s sticky muzak that’s guaranteed to leave Celine Dion ringing in your ears for hours afterwards.

I have no “Playlist Anxiety” – my compilations are awesome. Give me my “Best Jazz”, “Cool Funk & Soul” and “Summer” playlists any day.

Every day, actually.