Okay, now that I've gotten that out....

At the beginning of each week I always hope it'll go by quickly, but this one is going much too fast. Because-- oh God oh God oh God --

because Saturday

Saturday is auditions.

And I would be much less stressed if I hadn't made it last year. Now, if I don't make it, the shame will just kill me, I'll seem like such a slacker.

Last year. I practiced violin so much for those auditions. I had a goal, you see. The year before I hadn't made it, and I'd been trembling so hard with nerves I could barely play. My goal, last year, was that I would go in and I would play my best and I would not shake. I failed in that goal, but I made the orchestra. I felt so calm before I went in the audition room. I was in control, I'd talked myself down in my mind and I wasn't scared at all. Mentally, I suppose I was prepared. But my physical reaction was something else. I walked in and the tremors started. In my legs, in my fingers. When I started playing, applying pressure with my fingers helped some and the shaking wasn't that noticeable, but when I moved my sheet music on the stand between excerpts I was shaking so hard I knew the judges could hear the paper rustling violently against the stand.

So I played my best despite the shaking, and I made it. I should be fine this year, right? But I can't convince myself. I've been so busy I haven't had enough time to practice. And what if I can't overcome the nerves this time?

So I don't make it. Big deal, get over it. At least you made it once. There are plenty of violinists in the state who probably deserve it more anyway.

(The first sign of madness is talking to yourself.)

Oh, I read Candide over Thanksgiving. And every time I read "Voltaire," the voice in my head says, "Lol-taire."

It's a funny thing. When I think in words, it's not quite spoken and not quite written but something in between, kind of both, kind of neither.

I'll shut up now... have a lovely lovely day.