Mondayitis

Today I cried at work, fortunately not because of work. I ended up approaching my ED, who has a reputation for being 'human' and asked how he kept on keeping on when he did his PhD, but the answer was 'before kids', so not so helpful, but I'm glad I asked. I told him that I've learnt the importance of crying and feeling the pain, in order to surf through it, though I probably didn't use that language. At least the tears came out freely enough. Then I wrote a sensible email to my lecturer, about how to catch up. 

Sometimes I look at my life and despair at my inability to make time for myself, even when I have the opportunity, I fill it with things that exhaust me or are fleeting, or I pay for later. 

Generations in Jazz was okay, a lot of effort on son's behalf, at the expense of his goals, now he's behind with school work, hasn't prepared for his cello audition, said I'm imposing my goals on his life and wants me to withdraw him from the gifted and talented program (this whole diatribe sounds whiney, but I'm fairly certain head of the program, aka gatekeeper, went to Saints, another reason he annoys me). 

My friendship with Michael, was seasonal, and now I have to soothe myself, I hadn't realised how much I'd grown to depend on him. I'm back to disliking the same things about him I once ignored like how he writes emails holding different opinions. Meanwhile I caught the train with a relative whose conversation was so conventional that I forced myself to initiate a conversation with a work friend's colleague, who asked how the creative writing was, but after listening for an extended time, had to clarify my first name. At least my work friend, laughed at the name of a GI Jazz award, 'the Gordon Goodwin Composition Competition', named after a deserving and sadly departed musical leader, but as difficult to pronounce as rural juror, from 30 Rock days. Maybe today was all a case of Mondayitis, and I have work through it.