And there’s nothing you can do about it.
Except call your friend Hank who will make you laugh so hard that tea comes out of your nose so that everything is again right with the universe. It’s the age-old tea-through-the-nose heal-all.
(That was a lot of hyphens. Seriously, look at how many hyphens that took. I wonder if they feel self-conscious because I pointed them out. Well, don’t look, you’ll make them feel worse.)
I got an email today from my piano teacher stating that he will not be teaching me anymore. It was sudden and not great news, as you may imagine. (I may have cried a little, which may or may not have frightened my toy poodle, which possibly could have made me feel even worse, but I can neither confirm nor deny.) I’m not entirely sure why, but he told me I was a good student and wished me all the best. Circumstances changed “unexpectedly” and now I need a new teacher.
“Unexpectedly” might have been an understatement. What’s more unexpected than unexpected? Uber-unexpected? Weapons-grade unexpected? Marital law on all expectations unexpected?
It was all going so well. I thought. Possibly because he said it was going really well just the other day. Or perhaps because we've planned what my lessons will be until the end of the year, complete with me buying books this weekend, etc.
Anyway, these things happen. I’m sad about it but I’ll live. I hate when things like this happen when you’re not ready, it makes you unhappy and all you really want to do is click your heels together and say, “There’s no place like home” to make everything better (or the same) again.
Nothing. Well, I’ll be looking for a new teacher in the coming weeks so if you have a spare, I have a vacancy. Also, I just wanted to let you know in case I suddenly start talking about my piano teacher and using words such as “her” and “she.” My (former) piano teacher may not be teaching me anymore, but I don’t want to spread rumors he’s had some sort of operation or lifestyle change.
I know, I’m nice like that.
The plus side of this otherwise rather dreary day is that I talked to my friend Hank. He made me laugh. He started down a ranting path about something and then said he was going to get off of his “shoebox.” “Soapbox?” said I. “Oh, yeah. Whatever.” Then we proceeded to Wiki “soapbox” which then led to the Wikiing of Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park, which then led to the official language of Singapore. I know I skipped some steps in there but you get the idea and I don’t have all day to explain how yelling your political views to passers-by is related to the native tongue of people in Asia.
I can’t do everything.
Anyway, I feel better than I did but overall I’m still sad. I feel like I’m grieving an important loss. It will be difficult to understand unless you’ve been there.
Now I’m going to go and pout and eat something big and terrible for me. Then I might whine a bit. Then if I run until it hurts my lungs, write some poems, tickle a puppy’s belly and watch pointless television for a few hours I will have run the gamut of grieving.
Thank you for your thoughts.
And if you feel like sending me a donut, thanks for that, too.