Thursday, January 24, 2008

Therapy Sessions

When I am exceptionally stressed, it is always a relief to know that I have Clinton to go to and vent. All of us do that, because he is always willing and ready to listen to us just ramble on about our lives. There are mornings that I just wander into his office and start talking at him - he's always concerned, and always wanting to know what the music department has done this time. I went in this morning to have one of these "therapy sessions" with him, because in the two weeks that the semester has been going on, it has felt like two months.

Yes. It's been that bad.

I don't know why Clinton likes us to go and vent our spleens on him. I've broken it down, trying to figure out how his mind works on this: My first idea is that he likes knowing everything about us. He likes to get into our brains and his god-complex makes him enjoy fiddling around and making things better. The second idea is that he just misses being a student. He's rather fresh out of grad-school and I think he might miss student life a little bit, so he likes listening to us and imparting the wisdom that he gained while he was a student. It helps that we all latched onto him so quickly - it's hard to believe that he arrived last year.

After I went in and vented to Clinton, I discovered that I had lost track of time and had missed US Foreign Policy - so, naturally, I decided to be a very good girl and read up on what I had missed. Not ten minutes later, I was dead to the world. I woke up underneath my friend E.'s coat and when I asked muzzily, "E, when did your coat happen?", she replied, "You looked cold. And you were cute."

According to several other sources, I'm cute when I sleep. I don't quite understand why (I was curled up in a little ball on the green room sofa with my head on my US Foreign Policy text, probably drooling or snoring or something), but apparently small and sleepy = cute. I'm really just tired because I'm worn-out from yesterday - I worked out (yes, with equipment and movement, etc) for the first time in ten years at 7 am yesterday. And I hurt. A LOT.

This whole "getting in shape" thing is due to a love I have had for a long time: Figure skating. I'm fulfilling my phys.ed. credit by taking an iceskating course, and come to find out I'm rather good at it. Good enough for the instructor to ask me if I'd like private lessons for a somewhat reduced rate after the six-week course is finished. It's a rather novel experience to be good at an actual sport, after spending all my life being the "artsy child". However, I'm not nearly flexible enough to be able to accomplish all of the moves I would like to do and so have decided to get back into shape. It's slow going and it hurts - a lot - but I think it might be worth it.

And someday, I might be able to do a backflip on the ice like Scott Hamilton. Wouldn't that just be awesome?

This entry has very little direction to it. I just felt in the mood to babble some more, as though I did not do enough of that earlier.

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