Broken But Not Bent

I’m typing this on the freshly cracked screen of my iPad Pro, which I foolishly propped on the edge of the counter yesterday, whereby it face-planted and shattered into a spectacular web of shards and sadness. My iPad now looks like the title card of a Black Mirror episode. I’m inflicting microscopic cuts on my fingers every time I swipe across the screen, no doubt sending teeny tiny splinters of glass zooming into my bloodstream where they shall remain dormant to wreak havoc at a later date. That’s how dedicated I am about staying current with this blog. 

April is drawing to a close, and with it the bulk of my concert prep. I need to be careful, though, because as excited as I am to have a slight break from the grind, I need to focus on bigger picture goals and not let myself get bogged down in inertia, which is what always ends up happening when I have a bit of a lull. I need to find ways to trick myself into practicing; otherwise I simply won’t, and gradually I’ll become more and more out of shape and consequently more and more cranky and unpleasant, and I’ll alienate all my friends, and my lovely saint of a boyfriend will wonder what he did to deserve such a peach of a partner.

Shame that I had to choose a career that was so congruous with my own self-worth. I can’t help but think about this cracked screen as a metaphor for the challenges of this past year; there are a few nicks in the armor, some cosmetic blemishes, but underneath the machine is operating just fine, and I can’t let a couple superficial scratches distract me from the things that are really important.

I didn’t mean for this post to get all treacly and preachy. (Treachy?) I’m not even sure anyone out there is listening. (Hello? If you’re reading this, can you just drop me a line and let me know you’re out there? That this jumble of code isn’t just hanging out in the ether, all theoretical and tree-falls-in-the-woods-like? Thanks. You’re super.)