Mondays seem to be a pretty bad day anyway, but when you know that at
6:45 that morning you're going to have to go out in the freezing cold for
an hour and a half and march until your legs fall off and your lips turn
blue.. Mondays seem to get a little worse.
I've learned to pray for rain. Because when it's raining… that means that the directors don't want to destroy the woodwind instruments… which means that either you'll put the instruments inside and not play.. or that you'll get a perfect torrential downpour and you'll have to go inside for the entire morning. ( sometimes it rains for days at a time…(
Oh, and of course I love how fantastic it is that they take the band composite pictures in the morning after we've had practice for forever and we look like a tornado threw us across the county..
I love all that almost as much as I love those hatred wool uniforms, the ugly hats, the white gloves that serve no protection against the cold, and the marching shoes that make me wish I had no feet.
So you think Tuesday will be better. No luck. You think Wednesday, things might start to feel like it's normal. Thursday, and you're getting used to the idea. Friday, you're used to it, and there's no reason to object.
Then comes the weekend. The glorious weekend that makes you feel like you could sleep for forever, the weekend that is just long enough to give you time to forget all of everything you learned before… "Sir Yes Sir"… wake me up out of this stupid nightmare… oh wait.. haha. It's not a nightmare. Welcome to your life as a marcher!
I've learned to pray for rain. Because when it's raining… that means that the directors don't want to destroy the woodwind instruments… which means that either you'll put the instruments inside and not play.. or that you'll get a perfect torrential downpour and you'll have to go inside for the entire morning. ( sometimes it rains for days at a time…(
Oh, and of course I love how fantastic it is that they take the band composite pictures in the morning after we've had practice for forever and we look like a tornado threw us across the county..
I love all that almost as much as I love those hatred wool uniforms, the ugly hats, the white gloves that serve no protection against the cold, and the marching shoes that make me wish I had no feet.
So you think Tuesday will be better. No luck. You think Wednesday, things might start to feel like it's normal. Thursday, and you're getting used to the idea. Friday, you're used to it, and there's no reason to object.
Then comes the weekend. The glorious weekend that makes you feel like you could sleep for forever, the weekend that is just long enough to give you time to forget all of everything you learned before… "Sir Yes Sir"… wake me up out of this stupid nightmare… oh wait.. haha. It's not a nightmare. Welcome to your life as a marcher!
