Or: Oh lord god I'm losing my mind!!!
Right. So all of you no doubt know that my sister is sick. Old hat. Been going through this for far too long now.
Well, around Christmas, on a whim, I decided to give her a piece of music. I sounded some people out to see if I could raise enough money to make it happen. Surprisingly, they nearly all said yes. So I started asking musicians and they too nearly all said yes. So I've been slowly building this thing ever since. Found a hall. Booked it. Edited parts. Worked late nights. E-mailed friends and acquaintances. Everything seemed to be going fine. But then people started backing out. At first it was one, and then later a second.
Well, it's become a case of two steps forward and one back. And this weekend I worry that the forward steps are disappearing. This is an enormous amount of work. No one is bloody willing to help me organize this and let me tell you what a great bloody organizer I am. I still believe I can do this, that together we can make this happen. Hell, I know damn good and well that together we can make this happen. I need forty people, all told, to make this happen. This is not bloody impossible. It can occur. But damn it, I'm going to slit my own throat out of sheer stress. (And no worries to the psychologists out there. I'm not actually contemplating any such thing. This is hyperbole. I'm simply suffering under too much stress and so I'm venting a little.) (Okay, a lot.)
Oh, please god, help me out here. For once in your god forsaken godlike existence take pity on a mere mortal. After all, without us this would be one boring little rock with no decent conversation to be found. (Yeah, I know. An atheist who prays. How odd is that ladies and gents?) So help me. I don't expect much. I don't ask for much. But I want to give this piece to my sister, and in order to render it meaningful to her she has to hear it. (She can't, in the end, read a score.)
Right. Sorry for the vent. Thank you for your patience. Keep me in mind oh my friends. This must happen and thus it will happen. The show MUST BLOODY GO ON. First axiom of theatre. The show MUST go on. And it always does. No matter how many people get ground into the dirt in the process.
In the dark and distant future the Tartarus Rim can be just this side of hell . . . Or the closest thing to salvation.
From the original OKCupid post:
ReplyDeletemplsindygirl: I sure hope all the people you need for this step up and get it done. Your sister deserves it, and so do you.
The Composer: I've got nearly a month before showtime, so I think I can pull it off, but I'd really hoped to be in better shape by now. I'll put more money on the table and that will make all the difference, I'd guess. I knew it was going too easily.
Witchzenka: I've heard your music, and it was wonderful. I can't tell you how moving it is that you are doing all of this to give your suffering sister this music.
I want to help. Let me try and figure out what I can do to help.
TC: Well, you can tell me you like the music. That helps. So you've already helped, see? :-) I'm a little more level this evening. Just flipped out this weekend, I think. A lot of work to do still, but I'll get there. (Oh yeah, I found more musicians this evening. Can you tell?)
WZ: It is meant to be!
TC: I certainly mean for it to be! Make your own fate, they tell me. Okay. I'm down with that. Trouble is, it's an awful lot of work. ;-)