Have you ever had so many things to do that you don't know where to begin? That's the way it feels right now. All the time.
Let's begin with the obvious one. The middle school musical.
Last year, I volunteered to help build a prop for the middle school musical, Beauty and the Beast Junior. It was a privilege to be asked to help. And it was a joy and a challenge to build the prop. And it was exhilerating to be near the stage again, even though it was mostly backstage. All the wonderful memories of my high school musical days came back in a flood.
Some of us never lost our passion for the theater; it's just been put on the sidelines while we were pursuing more life-critical goals. But it is always there, just under the surface: the desire to put on - or be a part of - a show!
This year, I volunteered to help with the sets, thinking to use my vast (!!) knowledge of carpentry (insert laugh track here) to ensure a good, quality production. After all, they are doing my absolute favoritest play ever, Pirates of Penzance. Well, they're doing the Junior version of it, anyway. Which means they've removed some of the songs, shortened most of the others, and simplified the dialog to the point that middle schoolers can actually understand it. Mostly.
So I showed upon the first day of rehearsal, which took place in the choir room at the school, hoping to meet the choir teacher who was going to direct the show and talk to her about sets. There were thirty of forty kids, all bunched up in a room, sitting on risers, sitting on chairs, sitting on the floor, munching snacks while awaiting direction from someone. The choir teacher was trying to deal with various administrative details. I asked if there was anything I could do. She asked me to get the kids started on a run-through of Scene 1.
So I put on my theater director hat and walked up to the front of the room and commanded, in a from-the-diaphragm voice that carried to the back of the room, that the children listen so that I could give them some direction.
(Those of you familair with the attention span of middle-schoolers are now laughing your heads off because you know exactly what happened next.)
Not knowing me from anyone, they looked up to see what the fuss was about, then promptly went back to whatever it was they were doing before. Mostly talking (and texting). So I started again. Louder. With a little more edge to my voice. That started to get their attention. A third time sufficed for them to actually do what I asked.
And so we began rehearsing.
Three weeks later, we are still rehearsing. The choir teacher is still mostly doing administrative work, trying to keep track of all the little details which go along with making a show happen. The volunteer coordinater began working with parent volunteers just this week, which means that we are about three weeks behind schedule on getting our volunteers in place (for things like costumes, concessions, ticket sales, advertising, etc.). We had our first committee meeting only yesterday, and there is SO much work to do.
And I'm still coming to the school three or four days a week, right after school, rehearsing the children on their parts, both musical and non-musical. And building sets and props on the weekends. And getting ready for our first "performance", which is taking place during a school assembly next Friday morning; we're doing an excerpt, one song. And I'm trying to figure out how we're going to be ready for Opening Night, which takes place in less than three weeks, when the kids still haven't gotten their lines down.
So in the space of three weeks, I went from lowly set-builder to co-director. How do these things happen?
Meanwhile, I've started a new job, going from Test Lead at GE Aviation to Project Manager at Randstad (née Technisource). So instead of planning and managing the test activities for a software project, I'm going to be managing entire projects, including budgeting, scheduling, and staffing. More responsibility, more pay, more new things to learn. Including a new-to-me company.
Then there's the Boy Scouts. Our Troop has dwindled down to one Scout who has completed his Eagle Scout Project (for which I served as coach) and is now working on his final merit badges (which includes the Hiking badge, for which I am participating in all the hikes). The Council sent someone along to help re-invigorate the Troop, and she has promised to find us some more boys, if the church (the charter organization, for which I serve as liason) is willing to continue chartering. The staff at church is not enthused about the idea, but one of the elders has promised to support it, so there is some small hope yet. And if it continues, I'll still be the liason.
And my car, my lovely green Subaru. It is still sitting in the garage, waiting for the engine to be put back together and rejoined to the rest of it. But there is no money in the budget for such things; this was a partial motivation to seek a new job (aside from the obvious kid-in-college financial motivation). I need to get that car fixed. And the red Subaru still needs some transmission work. Which will require more money.
And winter is fast approaching. Which will severely limit the number of things which can be accomplished here at the house, within the confines of the garage. Which means taking them to a real car shop. Which means significant monetary commitment.
And last but not least, there is NaNoWriMo. As a wannabe writer, it behooves me to participate in this novel-writing exercise, not particularly for the purpose of creating a real novel, but to discover if I actually have what it takes (time, brainpower, stamina, endurance) to write a novel-length work in a short amount of time. Frankly, I don't think I have the time or the brainpower this year, especially in light of what is going on in my life. But there is no time like the frantic present to find out!
(So far, I have only gotten around 14,000 words, which means I'm about three days behind schedule. But I'm hoping to catch up soon!)
Oh, one more thing. Christmas. Fast approaching. Time to write Christmas cards! And letters! Now where am I going to find the time to do that??
Let's begin with the obvious one. The middle school musical.
Last year, I volunteered to help build a prop for the middle school musical, Beauty and the Beast Junior. It was a privilege to be asked to help. And it was a joy and a challenge to build the prop. And it was exhilerating to be near the stage again, even though it was mostly backstage. All the wonderful memories of my high school musical days came back in a flood.
Some of us never lost our passion for the theater; it's just been put on the sidelines while we were pursuing more life-critical goals. But it is always there, just under the surface: the desire to put on - or be a part of - a show!
This year, I volunteered to help with the sets, thinking to use my vast (!!) knowledge of carpentry (insert laugh track here) to ensure a good, quality production. After all, they are doing my absolute favoritest play ever, Pirates of Penzance. Well, they're doing the Junior version of it, anyway. Which means they've removed some of the songs, shortened most of the others, and simplified the dialog to the point that middle schoolers can actually understand it. Mostly.
So I showed upon the first day of rehearsal, which took place in the choir room at the school, hoping to meet the choir teacher who was going to direct the show and talk to her about sets. There were thirty of forty kids, all bunched up in a room, sitting on risers, sitting on chairs, sitting on the floor, munching snacks while awaiting direction from someone. The choir teacher was trying to deal with various administrative details. I asked if there was anything I could do. She asked me to get the kids started on a run-through of Scene 1.
So I put on my theater director hat and walked up to the front of the room and commanded, in a from-the-diaphragm voice that carried to the back of the room, that the children listen so that I could give them some direction.
(Those of you familair with the attention span of middle-schoolers are now laughing your heads off because you know exactly what happened next.)
Not knowing me from anyone, they looked up to see what the fuss was about, then promptly went back to whatever it was they were doing before. Mostly talking (and texting). So I started again. Louder. With a little more edge to my voice. That started to get their attention. A third time sufficed for them to actually do what I asked.
And so we began rehearsing.
Three weeks later, we are still rehearsing. The choir teacher is still mostly doing administrative work, trying to keep track of all the little details which go along with making a show happen. The volunteer coordinater began working with parent volunteers just this week, which means that we are about three weeks behind schedule on getting our volunteers in place (for things like costumes, concessions, ticket sales, advertising, etc.). We had our first committee meeting only yesterday, and there is SO much work to do.
And I'm still coming to the school three or four days a week, right after school, rehearsing the children on their parts, both musical and non-musical. And building sets and props on the weekends. And getting ready for our first "performance", which is taking place during a school assembly next Friday morning; we're doing an excerpt, one song. And I'm trying to figure out how we're going to be ready for Opening Night, which takes place in less than three weeks, when the kids still haven't gotten their lines down.
So in the space of three weeks, I went from lowly set-builder to co-director. How do these things happen?
Meanwhile, I've started a new job, going from Test Lead at GE Aviation to Project Manager at Randstad (née Technisource). So instead of planning and managing the test activities for a software project, I'm going to be managing entire projects, including budgeting, scheduling, and staffing. More responsibility, more pay, more new things to learn. Including a new-to-me company.
Then there's the Boy Scouts. Our Troop has dwindled down to one Scout who has completed his Eagle Scout Project (for which I served as coach) and is now working on his final merit badges (which includes the Hiking badge, for which I am participating in all the hikes). The Council sent someone along to help re-invigorate the Troop, and she has promised to find us some more boys, if the church (the charter organization, for which I serve as liason) is willing to continue chartering. The staff at church is not enthused about the idea, but one of the elders has promised to support it, so there is some small hope yet. And if it continues, I'll still be the liason.
And my car, my lovely green Subaru. It is still sitting in the garage, waiting for the engine to be put back together and rejoined to the rest of it. But there is no money in the budget for such things; this was a partial motivation to seek a new job (aside from the obvious kid-in-college financial motivation). I need to get that car fixed. And the red Subaru still needs some transmission work. Which will require more money.
And winter is fast approaching. Which will severely limit the number of things which can be accomplished here at the house, within the confines of the garage. Which means taking them to a real car shop. Which means significant monetary commitment.
And last but not least, there is NaNoWriMo. As a wannabe writer, it behooves me to participate in this novel-writing exercise, not particularly for the purpose of creating a real novel, but to discover if I actually have what it takes (time, brainpower, stamina, endurance) to write a novel-length work in a short amount of time. Frankly, I don't think I have the time or the brainpower this year, especially in light of what is going on in my life. But there is no time like the frantic present to find out!
(So far, I have only gotten around 14,000 words, which means I'm about three days behind schedule. But I'm hoping to catch up soon!)
Oh, one more thing. Christmas. Fast approaching. Time to write Christmas cards! And letters! Now where am I going to find the time to do that??
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