You know, there's all this hububb around me; my family is here, friends have traveled far to see me, and my roommated has carefully concocted a magical elixir of things to help relax, including lavender scent, bananas, and grapefruit tea.
Then there's the Oscar Worthy Dress I wore to promote my bad self. Think Michelle Williams in the 2006 Oscars. I got up in this amazing hall, I played, I got complimented on my sound and even my intonation (whaaaaat?) and then I went and celebrated at Nevin's.
The next day my family and friends went home. It was back to the Real World Evanston, starring the two masters music students, the custom trumpet maker, and the girl taking classes in Chicago, trying to get into med school.
My real life is exciting, but it doesn't involve large occasions where people dote on me. I never thought I would say this after I got to go days at a time without touching my Tchaikovsky concerto, but I'm a little bummed.
I find myself in limbo - I totally thought that completing my recital meant I would get a surge of inspiration. I'd want to lock myself in a practice room all day, learning new music. But, as it turns out, this is the last thing I want to do. So my days are now filled with me sitting around, trying to figure out ways to bide my time. And while I would never compare it to the real thing, it seems reminiscent of post partum.
Luckily, Tom's on the case. He and I are driving to Milwaukee this afternoon to see a baseball game. Hopefully I'll take in a great change of scenery, and remind myself that life is fantastic, even if I don't have a huge recital nipping at my heels.
I'm trying desperately not to slip in to my number one depressed habit, which is eating. That's a challenge, it seems, as I have cake and cookies laying around the house, left over from my recital reception my parents threw. (Bennisons will be the end of me.) Fortunately, the money I spent on the dress is stopping me from spending a hazardous amount of money on food, so I've been able to control the amount of stuff I buy at school. My second depression habit would be sloth, which hasn't been much of a problem this year with my walking to school every day.
But there's number three, which is feeling a little sorry for myself that I finished my big masters recital and don't have any big solo performances planned out just yet...