The Peeps released me for a fifteen minute break, as outlined in the Geneva Peepvention. I'm savoring every second, because come 2pm, I'll be dragged back to my piano bench for another four-plus hours of torture. The Satanic snacks have brainwashed the students into believing they all must show for their lesson today: prepared or not, voice or no, in sickness or in health.
Tonight my Opera/Musical Theatre workshop students will perform. This is a very nerve-wracking time for me, because although I have worked with them all semester to prepare them for this performance, it is ultimately out of my hands. All I can do is pray their brains and their voices remain engaged for forty-five minutes. When they're on, they're great. When they're off, well, they're really off.
This must be why I was not destined to be a conductor. I much prefer to be responsible for me -- not me plus twenty other people who may or may not give a rat's peep about what's going on. Think good thoughts at 7pm EDT tonight, and keep your peeps crossed. Stephen Sondheim, Richard Rodgers and Giuseppe Verdi will thank you for it. And so will I.
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