I Feel…Old…

Posted: January 13, 2012 in disappointment, responsibility

…and yes, yes you should be reading that as Captain Barbossa says it at the end of the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie.

Today was kind of a roller coaster. I’m glad it’s over, and I can chillax with my cat and some bad TV. And, in a little bit, my guitar.

I started my morning sipping coffee and reading random articles on cracked.com

All was well with my world.

Then the professor I work for dropped in and demanded (nicely) that I move most of my books out of the office to make room for more of his books. This is well within the realm of reasonable, but it’s still frustrating. So instead of spending the day reading, I spent it trying to sort through every book I own and make sure the ones I will NEED for my research stayed in my office, and packing up the ones I just kind-of-sort-of need into boxes to bring home.

I was still sort of pissy about it when I headed off to my guitar class, though there’s really nothing for me to do about this one but build a bridge and get over it. I’m entitled to be irritated, but I don’t have any grounds to be upset.

Guitar class was one part awesome, one part uncomfortable. It’s becoming very clear that the professor for the class is very patient with helping students who need it, but also expects everyone to do what he says when he says it. And I’m pretty okay with that combination. High expectations will keep me moving forward.

Which is happening, because I have learned more about reading sheet music in the last two days than I have in the last ten years. And an actual scale.

Progress!!

Today the class was split into three groups – people who were struggling with the stuff we learned on Tuesday (there were tears involved), people who were okay with what we learned and had moved on to the first exercise and were content to keep practicing that (me), and people who were ready to move on to the next lesson (got to go outside).

A couple of girls and I went to coffee after class. It was fun, but having a conversation with girls who aren’t even twenty-somethings yet made me feel like ancient history. It was inevitable that one of them asked how old I was.

Twenty…seven…

“What?! No way! You don’t look that old,” she insisted.

…good to know.

Still processing how I feel about that one. I might be in the beginning stages of a midlife crisis.

…I’m going to go write a song about that now.

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