Far be it from me to complain about my schedule.  After 2 years of bellyaching that no schedule was enough to stifle even the stalwart-est of spirits, I got my wish: structure.  Like I never could have imagined.  And now I run from sun up to sundown 6 days a week.  So I’m tired.  And every Monday looks the same…followed by every Tuesday…then every Wednesday.  The same long day filled with almost no wiggle room.  Will this go on forever? No.  But the end isn’t close enough in sight.  Yet.

Anyway, the past couple weekends I’ve been blessed with lots of singing gigs.  Every Sunday from sun up to sun down it seems like music is in front of me and I’m singin’: at rehearsals, at weddings, at mass, at weird Tridentine masses on the south side.  And it has been a joy.  But it’s interesting taking that step up from good amateur to paid singer…no one celebrates what’s going on.  You do the job and go home.  For awhile I used to be thrilled at blowing the socks off people…one person in particular…Paul…whose standards are incredibly high and who I live to impress.  But I’ve plateaued…in a good place…but in that place where no one comments anymore on your progress.  That kills me. Because there are times when I just cannot believe I’m doing what I’m doing…singing like I am…I literally have no idea how this sound is there or how I am reading this music.  Do.not.know.

So the long and short of it is this: today I got some feedback on this quartet thing we did on Monday.  I was the only untrained one of the bunch…and the feedback was good.  Very good.  And it was a moment long awaited…it was the minute I knew I earned my stripes.  I’m officially where I never thought I’d be.  And it’s better than I expected.

And the hill just got steeper.  And I love it.

1. I was not writing.  That is NEVER a bad thing. EVER.

2. I was spending time with friends who are more like family.  When there is something effortless about people who you find worthwhile, it’s always rewarding. These people are special gifts in life.

3. My apartment “got” painted.  I’ll tell you what the best moment of my day was.  It was finding out that the tiny little space between the sink and the wall in the bathroom was painted.  I didn’t know how I was going to do it.  And the next thing I know…it’s done. This, I think is an interesting function of single life.  I’m so used to having to figure everything out for myself that when something that poses a huge conundrum for me ends up accomplished, I feel especially warm and fuzzy inside.  These don’t have to be “rocket science” things and, in fact, they’re often the opposite.  I still think the greatest thing Andras has ever done for me was take out the trash.  83% of me is not kidding. The one thing I will say to all of my paired-off friends is this: Never, EVER take for granted the fact that there’s someone else around to get your back.  They might bring with them a host of other annoying attributes but remember…that’s garbage you don’t have to take out and tiny slivers of wall between the sink and the wall that you don’t have to figure how to get to. That’s just incredible to me.

4. My apartment got painted.  Holy Crap.  That’s a major project in a whirlwind…done.  Amazing.

5. I laughed.  When in solitary confinement, writing, laughter can be hard to come by.  This was nice.

6. Pizza. And Beer. Need I say more?

That’s enough.  How much more does a day need to be great.  I’ve got a “stunning” week ahead…in that I’m going to be tired and anxiety-ridden and in need of everything that today was.

Sometimes the universe just knows what you need.