Update again.
So things and shtuff have happened. I'm at the music library right now, trying to work on my recital paper. This shouldn't be as difficult as it is. I'm sitting here, with all this information in front of me (with a bunch more swimming around in my head), and I can't type. In fact, the harder I try to get my thoughts out, the sicker I feel. I'm kind of hungry, but I'm afraid that if I eat something I won't be able to keep it down.
My gig
So yeah. The gig went well. I was told it started at 9:00, but actually the door opened at 9:00. The first musical act didn't take the stage until 9:30, and Drew was the final act (he decided to have two opening acts to draw a bigger crowd, but now figures that he could probably go with just one--I agree) so he didn't take the stage until almost 11:15. And since I had no friends there, I mostly sat in the back corner for over two hours and watched everyone else talk.
At one point during the night, Drew came over and said sympathetically, "This isn't really your scene, is it?" I said that it would be my scene, if I had some friends to talk to. Later, I briefly chatted with a few friends from Redeemer, and then Ellie (Drew's fiancee) realized that I'd been sitting there forever and introduced me to her friend Annie and I chatted with them for a bit. Then later Brent from RUF and Redeemer came and kept me company. So those were nice little pockets of conversation, especially the one with Brent, 'cause I've been at Redeemer for a while but nobody really knows me (he asked me how much longer I have in school, how I got involved with Redeemer, etc).
I played four songs in the middle of Drew's set. They went well, except for the one during which some drunken dorks managed to knock a plug out of the wall and our sound kept going in and out. It was unnerving, then funny, then frustrating...
So now for the best part of the story: I was talking to Margaret and Gavin (couple of Redeemer peeps) after I was done playing when this dude (whose name escapes me) comes up to me...
Dude: Hey, do you know "Danny Boy"?
Me: Yeah, I've played it a few times.
Dude: Well, um...do you have a card or something that I could have?
Me: Sure, I'll go get one. *wades through people to viola case, grabs card, comes back*
Dude: Thanks...I'm going to put this in a letter to my parents. You see, I work a high-risk job, so in case anything happens to me...
Me: You want me to play Danny Boy at your funeral??!!
Dude: Yeah, really. I do have a high-risk job!
I'm not kidding. This conversation actually took place. According to my peers and associates, this was a pickup line. I thought the guy was just weird!!
Depression, anxiety, and insomnia
The sleep has been getting a little bit better, but I'm still not a normal, functional human being (though I doubt that will ever be the case). The doc prescribed some mild sleeping pills, but I've been taking them sporadically because 1) they don't seem to work that well (I still wake up during the night, and I still feel groggy and not-rested in the morning) and 2) I have to have at least eight hours to sleep, and I don't have that every night. I'll try taking them again tonight and see what happens. I really need my sleep pattern to get regular, because the rest of my problems aren't getting any better.
And for some reason, my face has decided to break out. I don't know if it's eczema or acne or hidradenitis supprativa or some combination or something new. I wouldn't be surprised if it were something new, with my luck. Or lack thereof. All I know is that my face looks like a pizza, and it itches and hurts and oozes. Sorry if that was TMI.
What else?
I don't know. If you want to know anything else, just ask. I still hate school. I still don't want to finish. I still think that this semester is going to kill me. But does anyone listen to me or really care? No.
I'm still in the library. Haven't gotten any more work done, though I've read some more. Great, I've filled my brain with more information that won't come back out when I try to type this damn paper. All I do is feel sicker to my stomach. I'm going to go now.
My gig
So yeah. The gig went well. I was told it started at 9:00, but actually the door opened at 9:00. The first musical act didn't take the stage until 9:30, and Drew was the final act (he decided to have two opening acts to draw a bigger crowd, but now figures that he could probably go with just one--I agree) so he didn't take the stage until almost 11:15. And since I had no friends there, I mostly sat in the back corner for over two hours and watched everyone else talk.
At one point during the night, Drew came over and said sympathetically, "This isn't really your scene, is it?" I said that it would be my scene, if I had some friends to talk to. Later, I briefly chatted with a few friends from Redeemer, and then Ellie (Drew's fiancee) realized that I'd been sitting there forever and introduced me to her friend Annie and I chatted with them for a bit. Then later Brent from RUF and Redeemer came and kept me company. So those were nice little pockets of conversation, especially the one with Brent, 'cause I've been at Redeemer for a while but nobody really knows me (he asked me how much longer I have in school, how I got involved with Redeemer, etc).
I played four songs in the middle of Drew's set. They went well, except for the one during which some drunken dorks managed to knock a plug out of the wall and our sound kept going in and out. It was unnerving, then funny, then frustrating...
So now for the best part of the story: I was talking to Margaret and Gavin (couple of Redeemer peeps) after I was done playing when this dude (whose name escapes me) comes up to me...
Dude: Hey, do you know "Danny Boy"?
Me: Yeah, I've played it a few times.
Dude: Well, um...do you have a card or something that I could have?
Me: Sure, I'll go get one. *wades through people to viola case, grabs card, comes back*
Dude: Thanks...I'm going to put this in a letter to my parents. You see, I work a high-risk job, so in case anything happens to me...
Me: You want me to play Danny Boy at your funeral??!!
Dude: Yeah, really. I do have a high-risk job!
I'm not kidding. This conversation actually took place. According to my peers and associates, this was a pickup line. I thought the guy was just weird!!
Depression, anxiety, and insomnia
The sleep has been getting a little bit better, but I'm still not a normal, functional human being (though I doubt that will ever be the case). The doc prescribed some mild sleeping pills, but I've been taking them sporadically because 1) they don't seem to work that well (I still wake up during the night, and I still feel groggy and not-rested in the morning) and 2) I have to have at least eight hours to sleep, and I don't have that every night. I'll try taking them again tonight and see what happens. I really need my sleep pattern to get regular, because the rest of my problems aren't getting any better.
And for some reason, my face has decided to break out. I don't know if it's eczema or acne or hidradenitis supprativa or some combination or something new. I wouldn't be surprised if it were something new, with my luck. Or lack thereof. All I know is that my face looks like a pizza, and it itches and hurts and oozes. Sorry if that was TMI.
What else?
I don't know. If you want to know anything else, just ask. I still hate school. I still don't want to finish. I still think that this semester is going to kill me. But does anyone listen to me or really care? No.
I'm still in the library. Haven't gotten any more work done, though I've read some more. Great, I've filled my brain with more information that won't come back out when I try to type this damn paper. All I do is feel sicker to my stomach. I'm going to go now.