Monday, January 10, 2011


Today has been the day of parking and pantyhose.

I got to work relatively on time. I would have been more on time had it not been for the hellacious state of BYU parking.

I walked from my distant lot to the Oliver House and it was snowing. The snow was really just slivers of ice, and they glistened like pieces of silver glitter. It made me think of the confetti that fell from the ceiling during the finales of my childhood dance recitals.

I got going at work and found all the projects I've been working on to be tampered with.  I work with one other person and we do the same job. But our bosses can be very, very, very, very impatient.  If I'm not there to do something on my project, they ask co-worker to do it for me. It feels like I'm being violated every time.  First it makes me feel vulnerable, thinking "Do they not like my work?" "Do they not trust that I'm still working on this project?" "Do they think I won't finish it?" Then it makes me angry. I think "Well if they were around more, I could ask them the questions I need to get these things done sooner!" and "It's not my fault I'm here at 8:00, ready to go, and no one else is!!" or "Why should my credibility suffer when it's not my choice that the bosses don't really hunker down to check out my projects 'till the afternoon shift!!"


I had a meeting with an artistic director today. I made the mistake of driving to the south of campus to meet with him. Good thing co-worker came along, so he could go start the meeting and I could spend 30 minutes hovering by the 15-minute parking spaces only to have them NEVER open up. The dumb BYU parking guys even drove by twice, and failed to catch the illegal actions of the white mini-van and blue truck that remained in 15-minute parking for over 30 minutes. 


Luckily, my two classes I had today were great. Unfortunately, though, I learned that my piano skills are rusty. And it didn't help that with everywhere I walked or sat today, my nylons kept scooting down my legs. So uncomfortable, those. Now I remember why I wear thick, sock-like, stretchy tights most skirt days. 

But now I am home. I am home and I'm in jeans and I have checked my emails. I have purchased school supplies. I have had some peppermint ice cream. And I most certainly NOT gearing up for a rehearsal, at which I would feel more of the same above-mentioned frustration and resentment. 

No sir. 

And I couldn't be happier about it.

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