All right, I miss him. I am pathetic, mooning around the house feeling sorry for myself because it's raining and I don't have Evan to hang out with.
How do people get into your life so easily? I hadn't really started out to try to weave someone into this mess so thoroughly, but it happened, and now I suppose that this -- what I'm feeling today -- is the result.
It's the sort of day where I'd like to go skating after rehearsal, but I just can't get motivated. I went to rehearsal, it was unremarkable, we're all in sort of a holding pattern (though apparently our friend Annike is accompanying about a million juries and never has time to do anything). For those of you who aren't musicians or haven't had the strange pleasure of being a music student, "juries" are these periodic witch-hunts where people whose opinions you doubt tell you all the ways in which you should never have taken up your instrument. People practice and practice for these things, upon which continuation of scholarships and sometimes even continuation as a music major depend, they get all ulcerated and panicked, and then you look back a few years later and you realize that it was a minor blip in your life, one on which you had no useful perspective at the time.
You also look back and realize that you were right -- those juries' opinions were, really, worthless.
They never seemed to serve a purpose except to nitpick and destroy people's confidence in their talents and skills. If you had to go through such a thing at work, where every few months some self-appointed "experts" watched your every move in excruciating detail and then provided a scathing review, there'd be a lot more suicides among white-collar workers. Or a lot more workplace violence. At least at work, you're getting paid instead of shelling out $14,000 a year for the privilege of being hounded.
After rehearsal I came back here and watched an old movie on cable, fell asleep and woke up at midnight.
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