Breathe In, Breathe Out

I barely have time to breathe, let alone think.

This weekend from here on out goes as follows:

2:00-2:50: Political Science test (which I'd better OWN)

3:00-5:00: Office hours at Rick Miller's computer working out kinks in the Practicum schedule

5:00-5:30: APO Member Meeting

5:30-7:00: Go out to my car, scramble for food and park closer to Morgan auditorium

7:00-10:00: Master Class with Bill Reed

10:00-??: APO Hell Week Event

Saturday

10:00-1:00: Master Class with Bill Reed (in which I'm singing! AHH.)

1:00-2:00: Run to get some food

2:00-5:00: Master Class with Bill Reed

5:00-7:00: Hopefully see some smiling faces, but mostly just trying to find dinner

7:00-9:30: working the box office for Morgan LIVE!

9:30-1:00am: prepping for and performing at Guerrilla Theatre

Sunday

11:00-12:30: Church at the Vineyard

12:30-Monday morning: COLLAPSE

That, my friends, is a busy weekend. Did I mention I also have to start studying for a biology test, outline a research paper, and fill out all of the applications for Capstone International, Academic Programs International, and International Honors Program scholarships??

I think I'll only make it through this weekend by following sage advice from Kris Kringle in "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town":

Put one foot in front of the other.

Today at 4:15

I walk to the water fountain every two seconds,

My mouth eternally, hopelessly dry.

My clammy hands shake with increasing vigor

For I know my time of performance is nigh.

My heart flies into my throat for a moment,

Stalling a needed and deep breath of air.

My face turns white and my legs feel like jell-o.

White-knuckled, I grip the arms of my chair.

I sit silently in wait 'til I hear my professor

Call my self's unfortunate name

With wobbly legs, I walk to the piano

Praying my pulse will miraculously tame.

I stand for a couple of awkward moments

As my accompanist tries to find the right page.

Waiting, I give a shy smile to an audience

Of incredibly talented students my age.

The pianist starts slow, so I must sing faster

To get her to the play the right tempo and pace.

Distracted, I forget to mind my own singing,

And get through the first lines with much less than grace.

I finally settle into my song,

And though I'm more focused, I unfortunately know

It will be impossible to sing like I could

If I were not trembling from head to toe.

If you have never been allergic to adrenaline

Or had an overly active heart,

You can have no idea how helpless I feel.

Taking my medicine would have been smart.

I finish my song without too much embarrassment

And take my seat before applause subsides.

Of course, as soon as I'm back in my chair,

There is calm in the place where my thrashing heart hides.

What a joy to sing for my peers.

"How NOW shall we live?"

We elected a man whose promotion of government threatens the very foundation of our country. We see the danger of his motions, but we stand idly by and watch our freedom teeter on the edge of disintegration.

The attitude that so many Americans share of "There's nothing I can do about it" is a tragedy. This country was designed to give power to the people. Watching one man put enormous cracks in our foundation while shrugging our shoulders is an ignorant mistake. We are ungrateful. We will not realize what we have until it's gone.

What is it, then, that we stand for now?

Does nothing move us? Does nothing motivate us to act?

We are called to more than this.