Stupid Grip
2004-05-03,

I was a victim of The Grip last week.

The Grip is what I call my depressive episodes. This is partially why you haven't heard from me in about a week (the other reason being busyness). I call it The Grip because that's what it does; it slowly wraps its fingers around my chest, until it has me in its Grip, then it squeezes, then it drops me. I should have known it was coming because I was feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the goings on of the last couple of weeks, and I felt sure that I could not go on with participating in the show I'm currently in. I has already missed two rehearsals on a tight schedule and felt like I was way behind, and it was keeping me from getting things done at home.

After much back-and-forth on the issue, I decided (idiot that I am) that I was going to drop out. So I got to rehearsal early and approached Paula the musical director and told her of my intentions-- at which point she gets this look on her face like I'd just told her that one of her kids was just thrown in jail. She was slightly panicky and somewhat angry. Sure I was expecting some piteous disappointment and such, but not that.

Then she said something that dumbfounded me: "I'm losing my lead tenor?" She then followed that up with another: "This is the last time I take someone on for a show on only a recommendation." Waaaaah? Lead tenor? Recommendation? When did this happen? When did I start running my section? Who was the bastard that recommended me and turned me into some kind of tenor cure-all? I certainly didn't ask for it. It would have been nice at least to know ahead of time that these expectations had been placed on me. I grossly underestimated the gravity of the situation because I didn't even know I was in a situation. Go figure.

So after that, I told her to forget it, I was still in. The situation had gotten completely out of my control and I wasn't about to let it tumble on any further. Enough damage to my credibility had been done. So in my idiocy, I not only underplayed where I was, I also underplayed my own value - out of depression and out of habit stemming from depression - all thanks to the damn Grip. I felt better but stupid afterward, and tried to go on with rehearsal as if nothing had happened. But something had-- my impression that I'd given to Paula that I didn't have time to dedicate to rehearsing outside of scheduled times led me to losing a solo to which I'd been assigned the previous weekend. I was too embarrassed and Grip-ridden at the time to try and get it back. Sigh. I just hope that this hasn't completely ruined my chances to participate in future productions as anything more than a 'backdrop' (my endearing term for 'chorus member').

And life continued. This weekend we started the mad project of redoing our kitchen floor. 12" square laminate tiles, black and white (6" square) checkers - very 50's diner. We're about 60% done at this point. It's taking longer than I'd like due to the fact that for some crazy reason (a.k.a. it looks better that way) we decided to place them diagonally instead of square to the walls. If you've ever see our kitchen, you'd know that it makes for some interesting geometry when it comes to cutting tiles to fit. Hopefully we'll be done by the end of the week, though it'd be nice to finish before the fire inspection on Thursday, something for which I feel completely unprepared. I feel like I should unplug and hide any stray electronic device for fear of his or her assuming that it's a fire hazard. "No, sir or madam, we do not use any electronic devices at all, save for our stove and fridge. Nothing to be alarmed about! Everything's safe! I definitely do not have our entire audio/video system plugged into a half-assed power strip. Same for our computer-- I mean, not computer!"

I just got an email from my wife saying that she was worrying about pretty much the same thing. This is why I love her so. That, and because she puts up with my lunacy.

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