carpe something-or-other. just don't sit on your ass and feel sorry for yourself

After a shitty and anxiety-ridden week, I have woken up today with some brighter and calmer spirits with which to shape upcoming days.

Let's just recap:
Monday and Tuesday was spent poring over internet sites, trying to get any news on San Diego, and Rancho Bernardo in particular, that would tell me that my friends and family were all okay and safe and still living in their houses.
Most of the week I was still stressin' about what seemed to be lately my complete lack of performance competence on trombone, and wishing I could shake the rash of bad shows and rehearsals and just...be my trombone self again.
Wed-Monday were spent worrying excessively about major changes in the quintet that had a huge bearing on what came next and how we approached it. I won't write about it here but I'l give you a quick run down in private if you're super curious.
Friday's faux pas on my part in relation to a certain person in whom I am quite interested had me reeling and unhappy, Saturday's progress (or lack thereof) had me convinced that there must be something terribly wrong with me, either that or I'd managed to fall in love with another person not of my sexual orientation. I didn't feel particularly equipped to deal with either of these revelations.

In short, by the end of Sunday night I was an anxiety-ridden and neurotic mess. I was making myself physically ill with all the stress I was putting on myself (having Aunt Flo come by didn't help, either), and I couldn't fall asleep despite being more tired than I think I've ever been in my life.

On Monday something broke in that pattern. During the second of our two kiddie concerts with Santa Fe, I was relaxed (partly due to being so friggen tired I couldn't even make myself think about any of it anymore, partly because it was the third time I'd played this show and it was cake to being with...), and feeling warm chop-wise, and I finally started playing like I know how. Confidently, that is. No holding back on the fun stuff, no worries about what's wrong, just moving forward and making good sounds.

Seems to me musicians aren't always mentally well unless they can really make things happen on their instruments. All of the sudden these problems listed above were surmountable again. The fires have passed, everyone I love is safe. Trombone is fun again, Quintet issues are being dealt with professionally and amicably. And as far as the boy goes- there should be no reason for me to be so anxious. Our time together has been awesome and for me to just simply say, "hey, I like you." without being so afraid of the results is not such a hard thing. If he says, 'thanks but no thanks,' I can move on without feeling like he was the last boy in the world worth my attentions, or that there's something so terribly hideous about me that led him to this decision. And if I'm right and all the signs are there and one of us just has to make the first move- what could be wrong with that?

Now, I've got some business to attend to. Namely, making it to the bank before my last transaction overdraws my account.