This is the second post I’ve written today. I didn’t post the first one, but I kept the title: I’m sure you can guess what it was about.
I’ve had a horrible day. It started well; my lectures were great, I enjoyed them. Seeing my friends again was great. I’ve got an essay title sorted, and I’ve finalised my masters subject.
But things went very downhill, very quickly. I had a call from my band conductor saying that he’d had an inquiry from a local player, with no other commitments outside a 9-5 Monday-Friday job, about band places. Long story short, I may be a better player, but no-one wants a player with a heart problem who breaks ribs one day before her first concert. I’m one band down.
I’m heartbroken. Any musician will tell you that we live our jobs. It’s not a hobby or a chore, it’s a lifestyle. It pushed me over the edge. I kept my promise on my previous post though; I went somewhere safe. I went to a uni band friend’s house. Cue a while of sitting, crying and a lot of hugging. But it worked, I feel safe, and I’m back in my own house. I don’t feel any better, but I’m not making plans.
My other post today was my note. I was crying as I wrote it. I think it’ll take a while for the pain to go away, but I’m glad nothing came of it, I’m glad it was neither posted nor needed. Being glad doesn’t mean that I don’t want to die, it just means that I’m glad I didn’t post it into the public domain just yet.
I need to concentrate the next few days on staying alive. Then I’ll carry on from there.