Feeling: ironic
Listening to: Frou Frou - The Dumbing Down of Love
Reading/Watching: Veronica Mars

And of course, I pushed myself too hard, sang my guts out for opening & second night, and then couldn't sing a note on Sunday morning for church (you know, the one I get paid to do).

I feel as if all the sleeping in the world will never shake this cough loose from my chest. (Although I've discovered that I can still sing, if I throw my voice entirely into my sinus passages, bypassing all the wreckage in my throat; it's thin and rather colorless, but it's on pitch and doesn't crack. Definitely information to pass on to my students, for when they have to sing through colds or sore throats.)

I feel as if I am working (or maybe just worrying) harder than I have in years, but lazier than I have ever been, even counting the first seventeen months of my life, when I couldn't be buggered to do more than babble and crawl. It is an odd dichotomy. I also feel as if I do nothing but lose ground. Three jobs, and none of them fully keeps my head above water. I will really be in the hole when the time comes to pay income taxes (they're not deducted from my singing jobs or my voice lessons).

I can plan a wedding, keep my apartment (relatively) tidy, and drop from 233 pounds to 191, but I can't earn enough money to set aside from one month to the next. Having money used to be a strength of mine, back when I had no degree, less self-confidence, and was in most every other way less qualified. I was also a much better journal-keeper when I thought my life sucked. The world is all cockeyed.

Hey, does anybody remember the days when I never had a single worry about money, when I was saving up to send myself on a two-week trip to Europe, my plans and dreams were perfectly on track, and I could conquer any job they threw at me? Remember how I complained all the time about being fat and unloved?

Irony's a bitch.

Although, before I delve too deeply into that, Past Me would like to remind Present Me that despite all the irony and the broke-ass-ness and the fear about the future, I am still so, so much happier now than I was then, because no matter what, I believe that the future holds good things, even if the present completely blows big gooey monkey chunks. So the self-pity will stop now, before I'm forced to euthanize me.

Things always look grim right before some of the most wonderful, beautiful times in my life. I'll focus on that until it becomes true.

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