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Flatmate's reaction to finding guavas in fridge: Whoa, what are those fruits?
My (internal) reaction to Flatmate finding guavas in fridge: What exactly are you doing poking around in opaque bags in the crisper drawer that is mine? we have two crisper drawers and you and your excess of food and ineffecient usage of space are already taking up 2/3 of the fridge instead of half, you can't have my crisper drawer as well. >:c
My (out-loud) reaction: GUAVAS. *continues readying package for mailing in bedroom*
Wow, I'm kind of a bitch. Whoops.
In other news, I've been doing a lot of bassoon-related soul searching. My lessons feel a lot like therapy. It's.... weird. Last week we talked about prioritising and so this week I practised like a mofo, which felt good, even when I got really frustrated. (and I did get really, really frustrated. more on that. like, wanting to smash things frustrated. also, it worries me that my immediate reaction/urge is to turn to physical violence, be it smashing a reed or saying, offhand, "Punch him/her in the face.") Yesterday was about decreasing muscle tension in my hands and arms, which was fine, except to do that we spent about 45 minutes on JUST that, playing the top fifth of the top octave of an e-flat major scale. And then we spent the rest of the lesson talking about my frustration and what is causing it, because it was fairly pressing this week, and because we'd broached the topic last week when I mentioned that Dan and I are talking about grad school and he asked me how I feel about my playing and my initial reaction was something along the lines of "Oh, no."
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And then I fell asleep. I should probably mention that the "frustration" talk involved me crying. *sigh* But all is well! Except I was a little annoyed that I didn't get to play any of the pieces I've been learning, because I worked the shit out of them.
Good morning, y'all!
My (internal) reaction to Flatmate finding guavas in fridge: What exactly are you doing poking around in opaque bags in the crisper drawer that is mine? we have two crisper drawers and you and your excess of food and ineffecient usage of space are already taking up 2/3 of the fridge instead of half, you can't have my crisper drawer as well. >:c
My (out-loud) reaction: GUAVAS. *continues readying package for mailing in bedroom*
Wow, I'm kind of a bitch. Whoops.
In other news, I've been doing a lot of bassoon-related soul searching. My lessons feel a lot like therapy. It's.... weird. Last week we talked about prioritising and so this week I practised like a mofo, which felt good, even when I got really frustrated. (and I did get really, really frustrated. more on that. like, wanting to smash things frustrated. also, it worries me that my immediate reaction/urge is to turn to physical violence, be it smashing a reed or saying, offhand, "Punch him/her in the face.") Yesterday was about decreasing muscle tension in my hands and arms, which was fine, except to do that we spent about 45 minutes on JUST that, playing the top fifth of the top octave of an e-flat major scale. And then we spent the rest of the lesson talking about my frustration and what is causing it, because it was fairly pressing this week, and because we'd broached the topic last week when I mentioned that Dan and I are talking about grad school and he asked me how I feel about my playing and my initial reaction was something along the lines of "Oh, no."
--------------
And then I fell asleep. I should probably mention that the "frustration" talk involved me crying. *sigh* But all is well! Except I was a little annoyed that I didn't get to play any of the pieces I've been learning, because I worked the shit out of them.
Good morning, y'all!
