The crimes of overachievement

If there was ever any doubt in anyone's mind, let me quickly reassure you. I am most certainly an idiot.

The proof lies in my choices, as it does with anyone. Sure, I'm a PhD student... I'm busy with ample amounts of work, which should go without saying. Two weeks of classes have gone by, and I'm already treading water in a fair amount of work: Endless reading assignments, research probes, general departmental politics... the works. Hardly any spare time, really. So, naturally, I need to take on a few extra things here and there. I spend a few hours in my office working, go to class, work out at the gym, begin teaching my lab tomorrow, squeeze in some practice time for the NY Songwriters thing... why not sprinkle a little more on top? You know... for good measure.

Because I'm not exactly bright, I auditioned for the university choir. The way I saw it, I could audition, get rejected, and move on. When I sang for them, I wasn't remotely in good voice, and even struggled on my way up the scale in the middle section of my range... ever since that last bout of laryngitis, I haven't quite gotten it completely back. (Interestingly, the audition required us to sing the first verse of "My Country 'Tis of Thee," which is exactly the same thing I had to sing at my audition for the Texas Girls' Choir so many moons ago. At least I knew the words this time. Hell, at least I could speak English this time.) At any rate, I checked the list at the student center when I got back from Canada, and I'd rather unfortunately gotten into the top choir. Damn it. Seriously. Now I've got two rehearsals per week, including a tour and a few concerts. So why even audition, you may ask... to which I can only say... come on! it's a choir audition! Since when do I say no to a choir audition? Or any audition, for that matter. Besides, I thought it might be a meager, if not altogether insufficient, replacement for singing at Dallas Opera every stinkin' day. It was hard work, but I loved it, I have to admit. I know this is not remotely the same thing, but whatever... at least it's something. That was my thinking, anyway. So it's simple, really... I snap out of it and just decline. Or, in perfect idiot fashion, I show up at the first rehearsal. You get two guesses as to what I did, but I'm sure you'll only need the one.

Fine. So I'm in friggin' choir. Enough already, right? Yes, absolutely... just as soon as I finish up with fencing practice.

Oh, yes. I'm truly that stupid.

Not only am I helping with the instruction of a fencing class being offered right after choir rehearsals, but I'm also pretty certain I'll be starting up a competative fencing team at Fordham. Frankly, it's sacrilege that a school this historically prestigious... and in New York, no less... doesn't have a fencing team. Well, I won't have it. I'm contacting the powers that be next week, and I'm starting a team (probably in the guise of a club) to fence for Fordham, both in regional competition and at national tournaments. Aside from which, putting together and heading up a fencing team is a great way to get a shiny new set of Fordham warm-ups to wear around, so I can look all athletic and collegiate without beng a poser. And, since there's no one here to talk any sense into me, I'm going ahead with it.

For those who know me, I'm sure you're not surprised. It's what I do... I run myself into the ground doing everything imaginable, then complain about how I'm bored and start looking for something else to add to the pile. Between fencing, teaching, studies, NY Songwriters, and choir, I think I'm set for a while. I may need my own personal supply of oxygen by the time a month's passed, but don't be too sure. After all, I'm losing weight exponentially, I have normal-person hair, I live in a city I've dreamed of living in for as long as I can remember, and I'm doing things with my life that I couldn't fathom I'd ever do... time, then, to get back to my usual grind.