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This morning on my way into the office, I had Sirius XM on (I think it was The Groove—though let’s be honest, my memory’s not exactly known for specifics these days). Anyway, Diana Ross’s “Upside Down” starts playing, and y’all…

Why do I know EVERY. SINGLE. WORD?

Like, every inflection, every “boy, you turn me…”—I was full-on car concert mode. Eyes on the road, hand gestures on point, hitting those “hey-ey-ey!” moments like I was channeling Miss Ross herself.

But here’s the thing:

Don’t ask me what wine I had with dinner last night.

Don’t ask me what I was doing yesterday at 4:37 p.m.

Don’t even ask me where I set down my phone 30 seconds ago.

But song lyrics from 1980? Locked. In. Solid.

What kind of brain voodoo is that?

It’s like my mind’s got this magical vault for lyrics—especially from the good stuff—but can’t be bothered to hold onto the everyday essentials. Like whether I took my vitamins or if I responded to that one email from three days ago (I probably didn’t. Sorry.).

But here’s what I’ve decided: I’m not gonna fight it.

I may not be your girl for remembering grocery lists or appointment times, but if you need someone to jump in on a Motown moment or belt out some Donna Summer at karaoke? I’m your ride-or-die. I’ve got backup vocals, interpretive dance moves, and attitude on tap.

So cheers to musical muscle memory, 80s grooves, and the sweet sweet magic of Diana Ross.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a playlist to build and a pretend microphone to find.

XOXO, Jani

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