Frustration

 

August 27, 2021

On the verge of weeping at the end of last night’s rehearsal. Frustration, spikes of fury. We work relentlessly on pieces not worth the time. I have no sympathy with our repertoire. I have no interest in singing in a show choir or a pop ensemble. I have no interest in singing pop music– nor should we corporately, as it isn’t suited to our sound. We have sounded beautiful in the past, but never on “A Disney Medley” or jazzy arrangements of Billy Joel. Perhaps the most irritating 90 minutes since I got home from Dublin. I spoke to no one on my way to the car. We rehearsed outside in intermittent rain. Retirement and the pandemic have made me too used to getting my own way for seamless socialization. Why do I linger? Habit? Because I helped found the group and do not want to leave my child, whatever disappointment he’s become? Perhaps I fear becoming the total hermit my inclinations sort of suggest.