Seeing as it’s Sunday night, I need to take a minute to explain how much I hate Mondays. I know, I know, everybody hates Mondays. But I *really* hate Mondays. Here’s what tomorrow looks like for me:
6:00– Make coffee/shower/pack school stuff/drink coffee
7:10– Walk outside to catch 7:15 bus
7:30– Hour of warm-up, long tones, finger exercises, breathing exercises, etc
9:05– History II Review for Grad Students (aka, you weren’t smart enough to pass the test)
10:00– Practice: recital rep, etudes, scales, etc
11:00– Lesson (aka, be happy, smile, and pretend that I’m excited about sucking while trying desperately not to suck *again*)
12:00– Library to study history, read textbook, drill listening examples for next Wed’s test
1:00– Dr. appt
2:00– Get ready for rehearsal
2:30– Wind Ensemble Rehearsal
4:00– Continue studying history, trying to learn material for test; research for Pedagogy class; start (for real this time) putting together comps material
6:00– More practicing.
7:00– Masterclass (aka, sit and listen to what you’ll never become)
9:00– Masterclass is over, try not to fall asleep while waiting for the bus
9:45– Take bus home
I know, I asked for this. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this. Sort of. I shouldn’t be bitter about it. I have no right. It’s selfish.
This is how I feel and this is what’s real for me. It’s like reliving the same experience as the entrance exams and auditions, but every. single. Monday. I need a tshirt that says, “Welcome to Indiana University, where your best is never good enough and you’re even dumber than you thought.”
So now, I’m home from my yoga class (<3), which is so good to look forward to but such a let down when I get in my car on the way home. I'm contemplating going to sleep right now, lame as that is. If I start a project now I won't get to sleep until after midnight, and I'm so tired already… (I must be getting old). My yoga class this morning totally kicked my butt to the point that it was a challenge to hold my arms up long enough to wash my hair in the shower when I came home. But it was wonderful. I was hot and sweaty and exhausted and I loved every second of it. When I know that's the first thing on my agenda for the day, I get up happily, looking forward to being awake. And then having it close my day, too, makes everything bearable. But tomorrow? No yoga. Say a prayer for me.
Bring it, Monday.