I have a song to sing-o.

It is still June 1, although not for too much longer. I just got back from our �dress rehearsal�. It is so awful, so incredibly amateurishly terrible, that I want to tell the whole world not to come tomorrow night. At one point we had taken a break and Vlad came up to me to say that Benoit, who is in the barbershop quartet and was listening to our rehearsal, said he couldn�t hear the other two sopranos, especially on the high notes, so could I please sing more quietly, and I practically lost it. I said that I couldn�t sing any quieter, that I was singing as quietly as I can (without sacrificing tone or pitch, although I didn�t say that�she�d really love it if I started singing flat, eh?) and I would just not bother singing period if that was what she wanted. Of course she backpedaled, saying that they wanted me, and I just whined something about the pain I�m in and my throat being all tight with it, and walked away from her. I don�t know who I want to strangle more, her or Benoit. When we resumed our places onstage, I said to the other soprano, �Would you sing louder and take some of the pressure off me, please?� I have never felt more right about quitting anything.

And now I still have two hours to wait before I can down more painkillers, and I hope to be fast asleep in bed by then, so I�m wondering if it would be all right to drown my sorrows with something alcoholic, if that�ll make a difference.

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