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Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Why? Why must I sleep?

I officially feel like a college student in a way I never did at HACC.

Jetlag sure is a bitch. A couple of nights ago, I was bedding down at 7:30pm and waking up around midnight. It's a little better now, although the lack of sleep is still affecting my brain i.e. I am saying the most STUPID things in class. Every time I open my mouth, something malformed and ill-conceived drops out of it. It's affecting my self-esteem rather dramatically.

I've started to practice the cello for around two hours a day, with the intention of increasing that to three in a fortnight. Occasionally I manage to sound all right, but sight-reading tenor clef in orchestra rehearsal has resurrected my long-disused faking skills. Thank Christ for my training as a master faker in my years as a violist. As far as muscle pains go, so far, so good (knock on wood), although lugging my laptop all around campus on Monday made my shoulders super-tense (I've since procured a new battery for my cheapo iPaq and can return to looking uber-faux-yuppie with my PDA-and-infrared-keyboard setup).

I suddenly hate being the new girl. In the past, I didn't mind so much, but entering fulltime music school halfway through a course as a 26-year-old is less of an adventure. This is not like HACC, where I really didn't give a shit whether I made friends or not. I would genuinely like to get to know people at West Chester. For a start, I'm not taking completely veggie courses, so it would be nice to have classmates I could rely upon as study/practice partners or just to take notes if I miss a class. And I'm probably going to be working with these people for a few years, not just a semester, so I should try to form some bonds, right?

Most of the people in my classes are much younger than me, and have their own established friendships already. I don't feel like imposing myself on them. When I was a teenager, I couldn't stand mature-age students. The few classmates at West Chester that are my age (three total in all of my classes, as far as I can reckon) don't really seem interested in being friends. Maybe that's because everything I say lately identifies me as an utter moron with verbal diarrhoeia; I'm not sure.

This was so much easier when I lived on campus as a new uni student ten years ago and spent my time systematically increasing my alcohol tolerance. Or when I had an office job and spent eight hours a day sitting next to the same few people. Or when I was an actor and had all my socializing needs happily fulfilled at work.

The bright side, of course, is that music is a generally solitary pursuit, and with no social connections or obligations whatsoever, I am forced to practice during breaks in my schedule to avoid looking like a lonely nigel wandering campus by myself. Hence, two hours a day, easy!

Will the rain ever stop? It has been overcast ever since the thunderstorm on the night we arrived home.

All of this whining aside, I really am glad to be where I am. Except for the lack of knowledge I have regarding my household's next paycheck, things are pretty good.

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