Today my chorus experienced what could arguably be the highlight of its history. This was a concert that was more that the sum of its considerable parts. Very popular medleys, choral excellent, solo performances to die for and a sold out theatre. All of this was topped off by a very successful VIP reception and a celebratory post-concert party.
Why then, am I feeling like a giant piece of crap?
Just when I feel as though the self-centered, thoughtless bitch has vacated my body, she comes back in full force. Having stated the considerable highlights of today, let us examine the low points:
- the day started out by me finding out that my husband and mother in law attended an event in Alden where a special tribute ceremony was held for my father in law. She thought I knew all of the facts. I knew nothing except that he wasn't home when I got home and when he rolled in, he told me in a vague and casual way where he had been. I might have gone with them, might not have. It would've been nice to have the choice. But since I've been reminded occasionally that "it's not my family", I guess I should not have been surprised.
- I arrived at the concert warm up site, and within 10 minutes, I was being ranted at by the ticket chair about some plan to resell tickets whose holders have not shown up. Not anything close to being my responsibility. I am always willing to be a shoulder to someone, but it is another thing entirely to be accusatory, as if I were plotting and planning against said person.
- concert goes swimmingly, as previously described. However, after battling my way up to the Loge, my husband is nowhere to be found and none of the punch is mixed -which, I thought he was going to do, as he did last year. No answer to my text or voice mail, as I hurriedly try to get the stuff mixed as thirsty VIPs descend upon us. He finally showed up 25 minutes later with a valid reason for his absence. Fine, but once again, the art of communication has been apparently lost on us.
- I arrive at the party and manage to procure drinks before I am set upon again by said ticket committee chair who threw a temper tantrum because "nobody saved chairs for them at their table and they have to sit all alone." Here comes that bitchy witch rising up inside of me. If I had a dollar for every time this has happened to me at past soirees, I'd be retired and sitting on a yacht. The difference is that when it happens to me, I generally just sit down and suck it up. In this case, bad behavior is rewarded and I (and others) are just left wondering what just happened. They are all talking at me trying to make heads or tails of it. and I might add that I was also ranted at by the same person because there was no high chair or bumper seat waiting for them with a bow and ribbon on it as befits their status. No thanks came my way - I might add - after I managed to commandeer a member of the staff to find a bumper seat. All this as a strange woman taps me on the shoulder and asks me when the food is being served "because they've been here since 5:15 and they're starving." Well, what chorus member sent this woman over to me? Some idiot who can't read e-mails and absorb them enough to tell their guests that the party starts at 6:00 (not 5:15) and the food is to be served at 6:30. Icing on the cake - a member who approached me to attempt to crash the party.
I needed to talk to someone about how I suddenly and most unexpectedly missed my Mom during this concert. It took me by surprise and left me feeling confused. But no such luck, and here I am blogging away desperately trying to regain my composure but all I can think is that I can't put a foot right. I used to be self-centered and inconsiderate and all it got me was loneliness and self-hatred. Others are rewarded for temper tantrums. Maybe I am being punished because this witchy bitch is still lurking inside me and still comes out, sometimes at the most inopportune times. Maybe I'm not really being punished at all but am just indulging myself in yet another pity party.
So, anyway, I beg the pardon of anyone who thinks that I should be joyful and ecstatic at the end of this day. I guess the kinds of things that make me joyful and ecstatic are a bit more complicated than a sellout crowd and a fine performance.