Dear Orchestra Director,

You do not know this, but I stayed up all last night so I would not miss this Youth Program concert and the 8:30 AM rehearsal today. I made sure I did not fall asleep last night so that I would not give myself a chance to oversleep. Sleeping is a slippery slope, you see...and, due to certain factors which you already know about, I can sleep for days on end. Do you know how hard it is for me to not sleep? Or, rather, be up this early? It is not my cup of tea. And, speaking of tea, i specifically paid a visit to Professor Java's at the break of dawn this morning to buy a large cup of their strongest, most caffeinated tea (I have finally stopped trying to overcome my general dislike for anything coffee/espresso). And eat some wholesome oatmeal. With whole milk. And freshly cut cantaloupe. So I will remain alive until the end of the day and hopefully not pass out during the tutoring session I have until 5:30 PM today.

You probably think you make a lot more sacrifices than I do, what with worrying about my future and all that jazz you spoke to me about. Well, I just have to say that I did not pull a nuit blanche (my second one this week, I might add) for your Youth Program (which the third-grade audience will love no matter what the orchestra fucks up on stage) and inject myself with an obscene amount of caffeine just so that I can arrive (only a few minutes late, but that was due to morning traffic) and have you tell me I can't play at all in the program because I missed yesterday's rehearsal. Yesterday's rehearsal was 'dress rehearsal,' apparently. Even though the orch is rehearsing right now, as I type, before the Program.

'I can't do this,' you tell me.
'Ok, so I'll---'
'Yes, I'd like you to leave please.' you cut me off.

That was it. The conversation was pretty much over in less than 2 minutes. I drive home and blog.

So you will not know that I left in a hurry not because of your orders, but because I was trying to keep from crying...and failing. You will not know that I bawled the entire way home. You will not know that I tried my best, under the circumstances, and am trying my best. You probably do not think that I try my best anyway. Yes, I understand that if I miss a dress rehearsal in the professional world, I am fired on the spot and probably will be beaten to death with the baton. However, this is high school. And the orchestra consists of people who have been playing their instruments since fourth grade and still cannot play in tune above first position. I am not saying I am superior. I am simply stating that, perhaps, you take this too seriously. I think it would shatter your heart to know that I am actually one of the only people that really care about you, and the orchestra as a whole. That is why, all those years, Jenny never told you what she thought, and that is why you never got along until she left the orchestra and it was no longer in her life. Or maybe you do know that none of the kids that are there (are able to be there) everyday do not really care. They want a way to raise their GPA because you give nothing below the 90s. You are just fooling yourself and pretending that it's the good-ol' days in a professional orchestra. Well, the truth is, you cannot create such a setting with a bunch of high school kids more concerned with texting during your class than the music they are failing to play. And the few of us that really do care about music? Well, I am starting to think that maybe I shouldn't be one of those people anymore.

Anyways, please just know that I am trying my best. Please stop worrying about my future and trying to teach me 'a lesson.' If you are going to worry, please direct it at the present-me. This is me trying, now. And you are missing it.

Yours truly,
Your-sincerelyselfish-formerly-fav-student