Overload

I don't need to hear about how my refridgerator is doing, or about how I smoke too much weed, or about the environment, economy, my own pay, summer tuition or anything of the sort. I have enough to worry about. At the moment, I don't need a broken scanner at work, a disapproving mother or lack of effort and teamwork within my brass quintet. If you have no key, don't lock the door. I don't need to think about the final I have Thursday or the need to sell my bass or the fact that I can't afford college. And the last thing I need is to hear about all of the things I'm doing wrong.

That said, things are still going much better than they have for the past year. My quintet sounds good for the first time in months, and we're playing (and self-promoting shamelessly) at a baseball game in Troy tonight. I played (semi-successfully) in one of my favorite musicals over the weekend--though to be honest, I'll be thrilled when that's done too. My roommate is cool, my boyfriend and I shared our first Jay-cooked meal last night and I'm doing better in my summer class than I had previously thought.

So often my life is entirely consumed with keeping its own balance. And 99% of the time, I fail miserably in this respect. This is one of those times at the moment. And once again, I can't keep the balance. It wears on you.

There is no interesting social commentary in this post. No morals or lessons. Nothing like that. I'm tired and you need to leave me alone. Thanks bye.