After getting road-raged into on Sunday, I've been feeling anxious and skittish about going anywhere that isn't "from the bedroom to the computer room, wearing jammies". I have to deal with an incommunicado insurance adjuster (the asshole who hit me, not mine, mine is awesome, yay Progressive), a rental car that has delusions of being an airplane cockpit (Ford, at some point you have to say, TOO MANY BUTTONS), and the flood of adrenaline every time I encounter another aggressive driver, which is a few times a day sometimes. Oh, and my grandmother, who took perverse joy in belittling me and making me cry, is on her deathbed.
I really didn't want to go to choir rehearsal last night. But several of my singing sisters insisted I go, to the point of asking if I needed a ride. So I put my big kid undies on and got myself down there, and I'm so glad I did. It was a break from the negativity, it was a chance for me to hug my newest best friends, it was a chance to let go for a couple of hours.
This season we're doing "Away From the Roll of the Sea". It's far and away my favorite, because I love the premise of the boats being the salty storytellers. It's a lovely waltz-feeling piece, and the second alto line (sung in the video by the male bass part) is fun and really rounds out the sound.
but had they the tongues for to speak, what tales of adventure they'd weave, but now they are anchored to sleep, and slumber a-lee