I am currently in the process of killing time on campus. As usual, I have things I could be doing, but nothing that I want to tackle at the moment. And everything requires walking. If I can think of a way to sit at this computer in the Willis Library (yes, tantalizingly close to Wilson!) for two hours without having to move, I will be happy.
Unfortunately, that would be a disgusting waste of time.
The problem isn't that I don't have enough time to accomplish what I want to do in this period of time. I have plenty of little errands to run on-campus, and could definitely use an hour in the practice room. Heck, if I'd really wanted to, I could have gone home and come back. The problem isn't that I'm feeling particularly lazy. In fact, I wouldn't mind heading over to the union building and buying a flash drive, or going home to watch my conducting DVD and get started on my assignment, or even practicing. The problem is that all of these things require that I walk. And my feet are absolutely killing me.
I have a job interview today, on campus, so I tried to dress nice. Like an idiot, I wore high heeled shoes. I considered throwing them in my backpack this morning for later and putting my tevas on until the actual interview, but did I do it? No. I'm an idiot. So I'm walking around campus in these two-inch heels that are a size too small. I've taken them off to walk through buildings, and when I'm sitting in class, but then the leather gets all cold and hard and it's even worse putting them back on. Plus, when I take them off I have to see how terribly disfigured they are making my feet. Not just blisters, but disfiguration. Honestly, what was I thinking?
When I chose my outfit for today last night before I went to bed, I couldn't help but notice that it is the exact same thing I wore one night not so very long ago, when "My Lowered Standard," (I called him that when I was on the phone recently with Julie, and I think it is a nice, fitting, playfully-regretful-although-I-still-can't-help-but-think-of-him-at-least-a-few-times-a-day nickname) took me out to listen to jazz and buy me martinis. At the time I was so enamored of walking through downtown with him, someone who was so inexplicably attracted to me, I could ignore how badly my feet hurt. I was so confident, for once, in my ability to attract a member of the opposite sex, that I could almost ignore how he only seemed to notice my backside. Ugh, memories. So, not only are my shoes killing my feet, but they are also bringing back that bitter taste in my mouth.
But they are such cute shoes!!! Ugh...he was cute too. Damn stupid boys.
That really isn't fair to the shoes, I suppose. We've had some good times, too, including good times with stupid boys (My Lowered Standard in particular!), so I shouldn't intrinsically link them to everything going to hell in the end. For that, I should only blame myself for exposing my vulnerable, bleeding heart on my shirt sleeve! I am trying a new experiment now. Non-chalance. I assume that if it works, coffee shop boy will want to marry me before we've ever actually gone out.
I hope anyone who might be reading this realizes that I am being purposely melodramatic. It's killing time- almost a half hour already!
I just hope nothing awful happens at the interview...I might have to associate the shoes with more unpleasantness. This shirt too- not only is it responsible for exposing my heart, it's also the shirt I wore on the first day of orientation that unbuttoned itself. I just thought of that. I'll have to be extra vigilant.
So this interview...it's awful, but I'm not 100% sure of the job. I've applied for 8 or so on-campus jobs, and as far as I know they all interview in the career center, so God (and the interviewer, hopefully) only knows what job I'm actually trying to get. This might be a disadvantage. Only time will tell. Even if I get the job it's going to be hard to only get paid minimum wage. First of all, it's less than in Washington, and second of all, I'm used to making $30+ an hour on a good night. Restaurant work has ruined me for a career in on-campus work study busy work.
Let's face it, I'm just an all-around ruined woman. My feet, my heart, my ability to make minimum wage. Kill me now.
Oh, quick note at the end of this here entry: I got into two opera productions out of three for the year. I'm performing a scene from "L'esilir d'amour" in the scenes program in January, and playing a minor role, Cobweb the fairy, in Britten's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" in April. So y'all mark your calendars to make the trip down to Texas.
Another quick note: I did something I've never done before...dropped a class. I was taking 15 grad credit hours. Full time is 9. I realized there was no point in my taking on too much and crashing and burning in my first semester as a grad student. Yes, I am killing time at the moment, but believe me, the storm will come, and I'd rather ride it out and enjoy it instead of standing out in the rain. Cause Texas rain is hot and muggy and gross and not refreshing. I know this now from experience. And there have been a lot of floods this year. People die in floods. I don't want to be one of those people.
All right, I've had enough fun here writing the longest, most pointless entry of all time. I think now I shall hie me to the bookstore to buy a flash drive, and maybe practice a little before I have to re-pretti-fy for my interview.
Uuuugh, but my feet. Oh, Bartleby! Oh humanity!
yesterday // life goes on
