Bitch, bitch, whine, moan, complain...

Okay.

I am PMSing. I know this because, with the exception of the time within 48 hours of my period starting, I generally don't have freaked-out-two-year-old-spazz-outs because there are paper shavings on my dress.
But if I'm due to start bleeding within the next two days? I will get absolutely frantic if every goddamn little thing isn't just fucking so.

As such, I have decided to publicly bitch about some stuff that is definitely not fucking so.
A surprising amount of said stuff is due to take place in the month of May. (And none of it has to do with my sex life, thence the lack of filter).


Okay.

Last Saturday, I was given a solo in choir.
To be performed (as in: with an audience) this Sunday.
Yah. Eight days to get a solo off the notes (but, thankfully, not off the page) and able to sing with someone else (it's a duet, but only one voice per part, so it's a solo).
And I DID.
I met up with my duet partner on Monday, and we worked like hell to get things right, and then I practiced it on my own - I was up on the freaking roof of the redeau center after work today singing my little heart out, making sure I knew my stuff - only to find out today that he's decided to cut that entire section out of the goddamn performance.

What. The. Fuck.


See. That section is several pages long, to start with. Which will involve a lot of hasty page-turning and rustling of pages for the whole choir if it's cut.
Also, it's pretty.
Also: Hello? Don't hand me a fucking solo and then snatch it the fucking hell away again. I'm really fucking pissed off about this.
On top of this, ours is not the only solo. Which means either (A) he's cutting us out, but not the other soloists (who, incidentally, he hasn't even heard try their parts), or (B) he's cutting all the solo stuff - which is going to sound fucking stupid, because there will be goddamn holes in the fucking music.
I am Pissed the Fuck Off. >:-/


He did say that we'd be doing the solo stuff for the May concert.

But.


This brings me to all the stupid crap that's going on during the month of May.


The May concert in-fucking-conveniently takes place on the Mother's Day Weekend - that being the same fucking weekend that Paul and I have been invited up to Paul's parents' place at Tremblant.


I hate this.


See. If I choose Tremblant, I spend a weekend with my in-laws in hiking-and-skiing-land, and miss the concert I've already told my own mother about.
And miss my solo.
And miss the chance to hold my Wonderful Women part in May.
If I choose the concert, I disappoint my husband, have to deal with guilt and (perceived) resentment, and may offend my in-laws by rejecting their offer to share their condo with us.


Adding to this: The other weekends in May are already booked up. The long weekend is the Gaia conference (which I'm pissed off about, due to be constantly in the freaking dark about the whole damn thing), and the weekend after that is my Grandmother's 90th birthday (which I'm not remotely pissed off about, although I'd have preferred it if she'd gone with the June 14th weekend instead, because then I could have held my Wonderful Women party while Paul was away in London (ON), and he could have come down for the birthday party in June, which would have been nice. Plus it would have given me an extra two weeks to find music and stuff - although I know the pieces I'm singing then, no problem).



Also: My stupid choir director *still* hasn't told me when and where the music festival class is that we're in. The festival is on Monday for fuck's sake. I need to know where to show up, and - y'know - whether or not I need to take time off work in order to get there.
What the fuck???
Asshole. >:-\



Also: The windows we're supposed to be getting replaced? Well, they are getting replaced, so that's good. But. I remember the stupid pushy mess I had to deal with over getting the door replaced back in February (or whenever the hell that was).
See, he was supposed to do the windows in February (because that's such an intelligent time to be replacing your basement windows...), but was okay with doing the door instead and holding the windows for us until he was doing everyone else's doors.
Okay, fine.
But it took some convincing to get him to do that.
And I am really not looking forward to having to talk to him again.
Ever.
Because it'll be the same damn thing all over again:

Me: But one room is stuffed floor-to-ceiling with furniture and the other room is full of slovenly tenant, and there's, like, two meters of snow blocking the windows. You can't actually access anything right now.
Him: But I wanna do it now. This is really inconveniencing me, you know that?
Me: Did you not just hear a word I fucking said? The windows are not accessible. You can not get in, in any direction, to do anything!


And it's the same damn thing. One room full of furniture, and one room full of (soon to be vacating, yay) tenant, and there's still heaps of snow in the back yard, even though it's definitely melting.


Anyway. I'm totally pissed off about all of this stuff. :-P


I whine. I complain.


And now I go to bed.


Because, gods damn it all, I really need to sleep.


- TTFN,
- Amazon.