Well, today is my student's Spring Recital, and it's set for 1:00 this afternoon. I like to arrive at the building early to make sure the microphone is working (or not, in which case I scream and cry like a lunatic), move the piano (hmm, must remember to ask some non-pregnant person to do that . . .), set up the tables for refreshments (double-check on the non-pregnant person), mix the lemonade, set up the signs, and generally sit and panic until people start arriving.
To heighten my sense of hysteria before the Big Event, I always make myself play/sing/whatever too, as I figure it's only fair. Since my students have to go through the agony, I can't very well miss on the camaraderie of shared mass panic. (Think of how many lasting relationships were formed during World War II).Hopefully I will survive today, in which case I will spend tomorrow looking at the world with a renewed sense of awe and wonder. If you don't hear from me in a few days, I've decided to bury myself in the basement underneath all the canned goods. No one will ever find me there, as it will be at least 30 years before my children start having any interest in vegetables.
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