Last night, at late ‘o’ clock, I was trying to sleep. And failing. It was 2 am, and I had a Euphonium Masterclass at 8am and a private lesson with the same man at 9am. 2 hours of playing for the guy.
Not only had I no sleep, but I hadn’t been able to practice what he had wanted me to practice. Knowing the guy, he was going to rip me a new one.
So I roll out of bed at around 7 am, and miserably look at my e-mail. I was doomed.
Or was I? There was an e-mail from my instructor, detailing that he couldn’t make it this week (since he lives far away and all, it takes time and moolah to make it to my school) and that it would have to wait until this coming Wednesday.
Don’t get me wrong, he had a really good reason for not being able to make it and I feel badly for him and wish him a speedy recovery, but WOO! I could SLEEP. At least, I could sleep until 10:30 or so when I needed to get ready to go to my Music Theory 3 class quiz, for which I was doomed.
Hey, one good thing a day makes me happy, so I took my 3 hour nap.
I ACTUALLY SLEPT.
I woke up at the perfect time, put some rice to cook for when I got back, and marched towards another low point in my day.
I got into the class right in the nick of time, and sat down in my usual spot in the back row. The test is handed out, and the professor pauses, says go, and we get going.
It’s harmonic analysis. I am doomed. I don’t know this stuff!
Or do I?
Harmonic analysis is the process of taking a piece of music and analyzing which chords are used when and why, in which inversion, where the cadences are… etc. Short version, it’s music’s equivalent to math, but slightly more open. Like math, I normally suck at this type of thing.
However, everything seemed to make sense this time around. It was in B minor, modulated to D major on the second page. It had a French 4/3 chord on the second line. I CAUGHT A FRENCH 4/3 CHORD. Owned!
Once the test was over, I left the class and got ready for a 5 hour long bus ride, which is where I am currently writing this post. In any case, I put together all of my luggage and my other things, and called the cab.
The thing about cabs where I live is that they never wait. If you’re not there when they are, they will leave without you. Even though it felt like I took forever, I managed to catch my cab. The guy inside was a jolly guy by the looks of it, and we got talking about how the cab systems work.
One point of interest is that they must wait for 5 minutes before leaving, which was news to me.
In any case, we got to the bus station and I told him to wait for me while I got to an ATM and got his fare. He said he trusted me, and he also said this gem, “… besides, I know where you live.” So not only was this guy friendly, he was hilarious. I have never run into a funny cabby before, so this was awesome.
I got him his fare, and now I am here on this bus, typing an altogether too long article about how my day went from shit, to bad, to awesome in the space of 3 waking hours. This day is only going to get better as it goes on though, because at the end of this interminable bus ride there is my Lorelai waiting for me to come home.