back to school for the 16th time...
It's only been one day of school and already, I'm exhausted.
MWF:
9:00 Theory
10:00 Woodwinds
11:00 US History from colonization to reconstruction
1:00 choir? (folks, pray for this time slot for me, ok?)
2:00 choir?
TTH:
8:00 Musicianship
9:30 Political Science (US Government)
11:00 piano
12:30 choir? (pray for this one too.)
2:00 choir?
On Sundays I work in the Writing Center from 2-7pm, I work there from 3-7pm on Mondays and also from 7-10 pm on Tuesdays. I also work at the MLR (same job as last year) on Thursday from 6-11. I have studio at 3 on Tuesdays and lessons at 2:00 on Thursdays. (hopefully.)
I dropped a section of history when my prof told me that he was going to grade my lecture notes and that it was mandatory to use loose leaf wide ruled paper. I refuse to be treated like I'm five. I can write my own damn notes on whatever hell kind of paper I want, and if you want to grade me on it, I can take an exam for you, thankyouverymuch. I signed up for the class that has 200 seats, but I don't care as long as I can keep my notes all in one place and not be graded on them. ABSURD.
The job at the writing center rocks. I'm getting sick of the music building, all the politics, all the ass-kissing, all the heirarchy. It used to be different, you know. I saw a dramatic shift in it all about halfway through last year. I love music, but a part of me is wondering if deep down I really have the energy to deal with it. But then, I go to class....and it all disappears for awhile. I'm terribly shy, especially in the music building. My talent is nowhere near many others and most likely never will be and apart of me feels so insecure about standing next to them, calling them my peers. I feel like I have the wrong instrument half the time, but it's too late to start over again. Vocalists are so chatty, and I'm so shy, and people see that as snotty.
I have to audition tomorrow for choir and I'm terribly nervous. I haven't sung or sightread all summer, despite my vows to do so. (and on that note, I felt so trapped and like I couldn't do either in dad's little apartment)
Three more years to go.
MWF:
9:00 Theory
10:00 Woodwinds
11:00 US History from colonization to reconstruction
1:00 choir? (folks, pray for this time slot for me, ok?)
2:00 choir?
TTH:
8:00 Musicianship
9:30 Political Science (US Government)
11:00 piano
12:30 choir? (pray for this one too.)
2:00 choir?
On Sundays I work in the Writing Center from 2-7pm, I work there from 3-7pm on Mondays and also from 7-10 pm on Tuesdays. I also work at the MLR (same job as last year) on Thursday from 6-11. I have studio at 3 on Tuesdays and lessons at 2:00 on Thursdays. (hopefully.)
I dropped a section of history when my prof told me that he was going to grade my lecture notes and that it was mandatory to use loose leaf wide ruled paper. I refuse to be treated like I'm five. I can write my own damn notes on whatever hell kind of paper I want, and if you want to grade me on it, I can take an exam for you, thankyouverymuch. I signed up for the class that has 200 seats, but I don't care as long as I can keep my notes all in one place and not be graded on them. ABSURD.
The job at the writing center rocks. I'm getting sick of the music building, all the politics, all the ass-kissing, all the heirarchy. It used to be different, you know. I saw a dramatic shift in it all about halfway through last year. I love music, but a part of me is wondering if deep down I really have the energy to deal with it. But then, I go to class....and it all disappears for awhile. I'm terribly shy, especially in the music building. My talent is nowhere near many others and most likely never will be and apart of me feels so insecure about standing next to them, calling them my peers. I feel like I have the wrong instrument half the time, but it's too late to start over again. Vocalists are so chatty, and I'm so shy, and people see that as snotty.
I have to audition tomorrow for choir and I'm terribly nervous. I haven't sung or sightread all summer, despite my vows to do so. (and on that note, I felt so trapped and like I couldn't do either in dad's little apartment)
Three more years to go.