Lately i have been screaming my voice thin, pummeling it as i scream for the high notes over and over again. This weekend it was Bb. If i could do that every day i would be a tenor.
There is still snow on the ground from last week’s snow day, though today’s temperatures in the 40’s felt like a summer vacation as it turned back streets filled with ice into soggy puddles to dance around. I remember when i first walked back from campus after the snow, unbroken white covering the field on thirty fourth street. A group of students were just convening a game of full-tackle snow football, and i almost asked them if could join in before i realized that i was wearing clompy boots and sexy jeans and was in no shape to be a pro full-tackle snow football player.
I get so convinced in moments, living out the highlight reel of my life as it follows a split second possibility. Rockstar. Run-away to Australia. Professor. Hit by a bus, Working in the office for the rest of my life. Pro-sno-baller.
Undecided. I wound up going out for some salad and bubble tea.