4/13/99

I seem to have taken a few days off here. Having a bit of trouble with the machinery.

God, I want school to be over. Today I sat down and figured out exactly how much money I'm going to need before I move south. I should be able to stretch it without getting another job. It would really suck to have to get a job from May till July. I'd end up in (shudder) retail. Again. I'd almost rather starve.

Took it in the ass from the director of bands again today. I forgot to copy a set of rental parts that he wanted by Friday. That was my fault. What wasn't my fault was that he went down into my office, found the parts, and decided to tear into me because there's music down there that hasn't been filed yet from a long time ago. How can I explain to him that it's under control? That everything pressing has been taken care of, and everything will be nice again after my exams? How do I tell him that my assistants are just as busy as I, and one has completely disappeared?

How do I ask him questions about my orals when he's pissy at me about my job?

I've spent most of my waking hours in the past two days teaching. It was good to see my kids again after their vacations. I will be an amazing teacher once my own school year is over.

I'm so proud--four of my students played well enough at State to be invited to the Michigan Youth Arts Festival. One scored so high that she's entered into the concerto competition. Yay! All my students seem to be working hard on their horns--at least, they sound like they are doing something. They have a big band concert/variety show next week, so they're all excited, oh, they're so cute!

I'm glad that I'm feeling better again about teaching privately. I was feeling so guilty about dreading the drive out there and putting forth hours of fake enthusiasm. This is what I do, I like doing it, but somehow it's so hard to get excited about it. I often wonder if my brain is malfunctioning. This would be so cushy--I get married to a guy with sweet benefits and a future in the Air Force, I can teach privately on the side and make some serious cash, even work in my home if I want to, so what's wrong here? Why can't I be happy about my newly-cushy lifestyle?

I think I dreamt that I got an e-mail from someone who'd read this journal and had suggestions for improvement. She said I should end with a positive feeling, not a negative one. I'm fairly sure it was a dream, because I'd remember if I'd gotten mail from a reader like that. A reader to whom I'd say, "yeah, whatever, write your own goddamn journal."

And then I pause--what the hell am I doing dreaming about my journal? This is serious.