Damaged Goods-A Healthy Rant

Today, I realized that I am damaged goods. It started off with a phone line and emails being re-directed to me. Then checking some mail. Then people wandering in to see me with questions I couldn't answer. I was on the verge of a Grade-A freak-out, completely out of proportion with my situation. I figured out that four years of working with no guidance and fourteen+ bosses for a chaotic choir has finally taken it's toll on me (especially considering that I quit a month go and am somehow still expected to be working there). Like spring-wound toy that is turned too far, that's me. I'm into the half-promising metaphors today.

In general, I've allowed myself to be taken advantage of. It's pretty obvious that I overly love my little planner and that I don't have much in it beyond a month away. So if someone were more organized than me in a long-term way, they can book me up without my realizing it for a while.

For instance, in group Q. I recently agreed to play as one of many in a tiny holiday show, which I've done for a few years now. Fine. Then the date was shuffled around. I changed my schedule. Then the rehearsal dates. Fine. Then more rehearsals were added. Fine. Then the times were changed, more players added, and even more rehearsals added in December (a busy musical month in general). And now I'm receiving commands about how I can't go away for Thanksgiving because it's two weeks before the show. Not two days, not a week, but two weeks. I'm revoking my ability to play because I'm tired of playing for others when I have a backlog of things I WANT TO DO.

I also dislike how Q. will corner me in front of a large group of fellow performers and ask in a-way-not-to-be-denied about adding extra rehearsals, like on Friday night? Or how about tomorrow and Thursday, then Friday? It's been like this for a few years now and I'm tired of it. No, I'm not available early Wednesday evening and again on Friday and just once more on Sunday because the other people didn't practice. I did and it's not my problem.

I like the idea that when I quit something (say a choir job or Q.'s group) it should stay quit. Sadly, such things are like zombies in my life and I'm getting resentful. Perhaps I'll get cranky enough that my plexiglass layer of politeness will dissolve and it will be just like I mean it when I say "I Quit!"

An Erinku (in crankiness):
open bag
cheesey-poofs
glaring at the clock
time for rehearsal