Rush

I can feel it coming on. The sheer anxiety right before the adrenaline rush. Sometimes I wonder if I crave it, and that's why I keep myself busy. Adrenaline junkie.

Somehow in the past few hours my week went from nothing to packed. And I'm loving every minute. Still no lessons set up, but the school year is still young. I'm expecting most of my students (beginners) to start lessons in October, once they're familiar enough with their instrument maintenance and posture to begin real teaching. Fundamentals, you know. Gotta have 'em. Until then I've occupied myself by playing with my new toy. It's a tuner, one of the kinds that recognizes the note you play and tells you if you're sharp or flat. I've been singing into it for days, just for the heck of it. It's a pretty cool toy. And it has a plug-in for when I finally get a guitar. Which may or may not be in the near future. I'm just looking for a cheap-o practice model with an acoustic neck, so if you know anyone that's getting rid of one, let me know. It's the last instrument I care to learn and develop skill on.

This past weekend I helped some friends move. Again. We laugh about it now, just because it's so funny the number of times they've moved. And I've been there every single time. This time I was a little more help, though. I'm stronger because I've been working out. I think I shocked some of the guys helping.

But you know what? I love the south. Men are such gentlemen down here. I would open the door for a guy carrying a huge box in (yeah, right, like he could open it himself), and even though it was the seventeenth time I'd done that in the past half hour, he still said thanks every time. It was comical. And since I was the only woman in the group helping lug boxes, I was contantly fawned over.

"You got that?"

"You need help carrying that?"

"Is that too heavy?"

No, boys. I'm fine. Thanks for asking. Could you get the door for me?

And I got to drive a 24-foot moving truck. That was an experience, let me tell you. Before that, the biggest vehicle I'd driven was my Jeep. Unless you count the time I test-drove an Odyssey. I was scared to death, but surprisingly I didn't hit anything or anyone. I am woman, hear me roar. Go me. And all that jazz.