chin up, chin down

Can you really predict how March ends or begins? I never have been able to. In the past I have declared from mountains that March is my least favorite month. Bad things have always happened in March. I've been dumped, people have died, I've lost sleep, time, years of my life, a pair of pants. I've looked up and down the Marches of my history and found them entirely lacking.

In retrospect of this weekend I am thinking maybe I just refused to see the good things that also happened in March. The child in me still sees the bad in everything, the poet in me clings to that blackness and writes it out emphatically, but the adult I try to be knows that surely not all of my Marches have been all heartbreak and hair-tearing chaos.

This weekend Trinity presented A Midsummer Night's Dream, western style. Yours truly was the costume director and played the part of Philostrate. Friday was opening night. But let's start Friday morning.

8:15, study for Evaluation 2.
9:00, yawn, have headache, take Evaluation 2 during Educational Psychology & Human Development.
9:40, wait a billion years for breakfast. Eat said breakfast, crave sleep.
11:00, go to chapel, fall asleep in the last 20 minutes.
12:00, take a nap.
1:45, write a reflective essay with dyad partner for Philosophy.
2:15, fall asleep in Romantic Lit.
3:15, fall asleep in Philosophy.
4:00, call fiance. Have sudden desire to call my boss.
4:15, call boss about summer job. Apparently, I don't have one!
4:40, sit in room and cry. think deeply. pray.
5:00, eat dinner with roomie.
5:30, go to the chapel and start play excitement.

And then we had 'the play.' I said my lines and wore eight pounds of make-up and danced backstage. But, seeing no one greet me afterwards, having no one to congratulate just me or bring me flowers, a great weight pressed at my chest. There was an after party, and I forced myself to go, knowing that I would feel even worse sitting alone in my room.

Saturday was much of the same. After-party included.

I am exhausted, but...

Walking back to my room at 2am, or today after getting breakfast and drinking coffee, I told myself the good things that had happened. I forced myself to believe that everything was no so horrible, that there were good moments involving playing a baby grand piano or a finished assignment or a nap.

Today is not ending the way that I would like it to. Tomorrow I find out about a job for next school year, and Wednesday there's a possibility of mending a friendship. March may go out in the same fashion that it entered--bloody teeth and sharp claws. It may not end in the way that I need it to, the way I hope it will, the way that would be easiest and least traumatizing. The least detrimental to a better future.

But I will find good things still. I will take to heart the sunshine, despite the freezing wind. I will enjoy the prospect of fixing things, at least until I find out whether or not they are fixed. I will breathe deeply of gracious professors who give second, third, fourth chances and of faithful friends who listen with open hands and hearts. I will take time to calm down with a cup of tea and a piece of chocolate. (free chocolate, mind you.)

Most of all, I will listen to new music. I have created a playlist (on playlist.com) called "Chin Up, Chin Down, You are a Princess", named after a quote on a picture from a friend. It makes no sense. But it gives me a little pep every time I see it. The playlist includes upbeat (but not poppy) music, lots of piano, and most importantly the Midsummer Night's Dream playlist arranged by our dear Oberon.

I will find good things. I will not fall apart.