Gah!

I don’t know why I let that guy push my buttons, but somehow he does, every single time. I’m talking about my department chair, who must either have a very small penis or something else he is compensating for, whose incredibly rude and accusatory emails to me regarding the accompaniment of my students got me so angry I thought I would spit. He insinuates that it is my fault that they are using accompanists other than the department-sanctioned one, that I arranged these things behind his back, even though I told him I did not, and that I have not informed the department.

I was told by the student who did all the arranging that the Duke, who is another full-time department member and to whom everyone goes to circumvent the chair’s incompetence, okayed the arrangement, specifically the use of a pianist from outside the department who is, nonetheless, a much better accompanist than most of the pianists inside the department. The students she is accompanying are all drama majors and she is known to them, and they like and trust her. Juries are on Saturday, and they have not been informed who the staff accompanist is yet. I’m sure that would be a cause for anxiety. They are better off with their colleague, in my books.

Then, I wrote a beautiful email to the Duke which disappeared when I pressed Send because my session with webmail had expired. I was ready to give up in despair.

However, Hubby said he would fix things for me, and at the student grad recital tonight (the flutist who played on my recital--he did an absolutely beautiful job) he talked to his colleague and the student pianist (who happened to be in attendance) and hopefully everything will be straightened out. Still. I get so pissed off at the incompetence and the need to assert control unnecessarily that is going on around me. I feel like a mother bear, that my students are my cubs and I am trying to protect them. I don’t actually know why I do this as they don’t really give me reason to try to fight so hard for them. It must be a built-in maternal thing.

Anyway, that’s Monday for you.

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