He who hath no T.P. truly hath nothing

I have no toilet paper. None what-so-ever. This isn't necessarily a summary of my day, but it is a good reflection on the issues I'm currently facing. It's almost 1:00 am, the roads are slicker than whale-shit on an ice-flow, and I've no inclination or energy to go out into the cold night to get a roll of mountain money. Yet, sooner or later I'm going to have to conduct some bowel evacuation. Why don't I use tissues or paper-towels? Sweet Jesus, don't you think I've asked myself that already? We have no paper products here at all. No kleenex, paper towels, news-papers, or napkins. I've considered reciepts, envelopes, or note-book paper, but I haven't yet reached that degree of desperation.

I went to the MCC student recital, which lasted a grueling 2 hours and 10 minutes. My attention span was toast by the time it was over, although there were more good performances than bad. Listening to the string players struggle with intontaion struck me with a sense of dread and foreboding for when I have to get up there this spring. Tatiana and Ella played fantastic... both played with confidence and authority, and it was very engaging and musical.

One of the other students there is also a bassist, and just took up the double bass 2-3 months ago. I have no idea how much practice he puts into it, but he's already better than me (not that that's saying much), as well as a gifted composer. Makes me think it's high time I started slashing things out of my schedule to make room for serious bass practice. I should off-load my band, some computer time, all my procrastination time, and anything else I can think of except school, work, and girl-friend, and sink it into the upright. I get tired of my over-whelming mediocrity. It'd be nice if I'd begin to excel at something instead of being half-assed at everything.