nomadic misadventures

This is the story of my insane week. But to properly appreciate it, you need a little backstory . . .

Over Christmas break two different churches offered me organ jobs. One of them I refused (it didn't pay enough to be worth the time), and the other I tentatively accepted . . . but then it was unoffered (their organist changed her mind about retiring).

So when my employer at my receptionist job offered more hours, I took them. This put me at 19 hours/week, plus 13 hours of classes, plus a 1 1/2 hour commute every day. Which pretty much means I have no life, because whenever I'm not at work, in class, or driving to one of the above, I'm practicing.

Anyway, this Wednesday I woke up feeling awful, and ended up skipping work and my first class. After a little extra sleep I decided I could make it to my other two classes, so I braved the finally-seasonable weather (nasty rain with a little ice mixed in), and drove to class.

Some things are better unbraved.

I ended up with a flat tire and a bent wheel. And I missed my class.

Then I got an email informing me that my scholarship was in danger--because I had failed to fulfill a requirement that no one had told me about. I did make it to my last class of the day; but since this is the class where the professor doesn't care if you skip, and routinely leaves the classroom after 5 minutes to get coffee, it was kind of a waste of time.

I made it home without further incident . . . finished my homework . . . brushed my teeth . . .

. . . and realized I had a random wisdom tooth coming in.

Yeah, not a happy day. Thursday, though, I got a call from the church that had unoffered me the job. Apparently their organist changed her mind (again!), and is actually retiring. So I agreed to play a week from Sunday, and then sit down and discuss things with them. Then the other church called, wanting to talk to me about my concerns and see if we could negotiate a salary.

Only trouble is, I don't have time to take either job now, because of the aforementioned crazy schedule. (When I was considering it back during break, I thought I'd be working maybe 10 hours/week.) I could drop a class, but that would make me a part-time student, and my scholarship would disappear. Permanently. To keep the scholarship, though, I have to join an ensemble--which I also don't have time to do, because of the same crazy schedule.

So the long weekend? Very much my friend right now. And I'm really hoping one of the organ jobs works out, because dropping a class and making more money is looking like the best of my possible worlds. Might even let me move to Rivertown, and end my days as a nomad . . . which would simplify my life exponentially.

Hugs to all my faithful readers . . . I miss you. Lots.

Skiving (but without snackboxes)

The lovely thing about Georgia is that you can eat lunch outside on the last day of November.

And the lovely thing about state universities? You can be a terrible student without any risk of losing your scholarship.

Okay, maybe "terrible" is too strong. But I'm quite definitely a bad student--and my professors all seem to think I'm a very good one.

On a typical Thursday, I get up around 8, get dressed, throw together a quick lunch (yogurt, banana, Kashi bar), and drive to Linguisitcs. Despite my good intentions, I'm usually 5-10 minutes late.

I like linguistics reasonably well. Unfortunately, though, the professor is rather boring, and most of the students are perpetually clueless. So I do my homework in class. This usually takes no more than 10 minutes, despite the fact that I never read the textbook. Then I do my theory homework, which is due later that day (all the while keeping half an ear open in case he calls on me, and glancing up at strategic intervals with an interested expression).

Theory homework completed, I check my cell phone. Still half an hour left. I pull out my faithful red notebook and start sketching out the next scene of my novel. I have to be careful, though: when I write dialogue, I have a tendency to start mouthing the words and making appropriate facial expressions. The writing makes me look attentive; but facial contortions look suspicious--and while prof is a bit absent-minded, he doesn't lecture with his eyes closed.

After linguistics, I drive 15 minutes to the music building. Here I have "Skills"--50 minutes of sight-singing, rhythm-counting, dictation-taking frustration. I actually do some work for this class, but it never seems to help.

Then it's lunch & email-checking in the Mac lab, and on to theory--good subject, bad prof. Well, he's not bad exactly--but about the second week of the semester I realized that his brain processes theory very differently than mine does. So I simply don't listen in class, and figure things out when I'm doing homework in Linguistics.

The homework isn't due until 5:00, technically; but I always turn it in at the end of class. This allows me to get some organ practice in before work--which mostly involves sitting behind a desk from 5-8:30. Just long enough to read a short novel. Then it's 45 minutes home, and I have just time to finish the novel or watch a TV episode before bed. (This semester I've been watching Bones, Heroes, Boomtown, and Wonderfalls.)

This is the pattern of my Tuesdays and Thursdays. Not a bad pattern, really, though it's a bit too nomadic for my state. A couple of weeks ago, though, I changed it.

The worst part of my nomadic lifestyle is that it often prevents me from seeing movies. I had already missed at least 2 that I was excited about, and on Wednesday I realized that another movie I was interested (The Darjeeling Limited) in would be gone on Friday. Also, I was half a week into a really nasty cold.

So when I woke up Thursday morning, feeling horrible, and thought about my linguistics class, I rolled over and went back to sleep. By the time I woke up again, linguistics was half over, and if I ate breakfast I wouldn't have time to make Skills.

I ate breakfast.

Then I drove downtown, and sat in the windowless Mac lab trying to care about my theory homework--until it suddenly struck me that I could skp Theory, too, and go to the afternoon showing of The Darjeeling Limited.

It was a perfect fall day: deep blue skies above crazily colored trees--bright yellow, rich gold, crimson, purple-red, and orange; and the wind was just cold and strong enough to make you want adventure.

It was the wind's fault, really. I cast off my last vestige of good-studenthood, and went to the movie.

Oddly enough, it was the perfect movie for the mood I was in. Best part of my week. Well, except for the epiphanic church-playing and the Magic Tea. And the blind date wasn't too bad, either. But those are whole other stories. :-)