It is the question I fear most in life. Not “what do you want to be when you grow up?”, or “you spent how much at Chez Bruce?”, but “what are you listening to?” There is simply no good answer — or at least not one that does not require explanation.
I could lie, of course. Strangers might reasonably assume it is music, while those who know me a little better probably suspect podcasts. But they would both be wrong. I am listening to nothing at all. Except, even this is not quite right. The truth is, I am listening to white noise.
