Dies Irae

Well, yesterday they ripped up the kitchen. The stove and dishwasher are in the dining room. The refrigerator is in the porch, which gives the house a certain trailer park je ne sais quoi.

I'm sure my neighbors are enchanted.

After school I drove the kids to our place downtown, having only had to pack and unpack and repack the van once or twice in order to fit in all the food I rescued from the kitchen before it was ripped up.

And of course, it was as hot as a crotch while all this was going on. Wouldn't you just know it? Chicago felt like a big, wet, smelly sponge sauna after all of that.

And that was just the beginning of my fun-filled weekend!

We had a double choir rehearsal today, which involved sight-reading a cubic ass-load of new music, including a lot by Mozart.

I differ from the average Classical music aficionado in not giving a rat's ass about Mozart most of the time, and finding him a big fat pain in the ass during very long bouts with him, such as the recent bicentennial of his birth, where it was All Mozart All the Time to a degree that could induce bruxism in the most stoic. Another time Mozart gives me the pip is when I have to spend hours sight reading his choral music, such as today's adventure in learning the soundtrack to Amadeus, otherwise known as Mozart's Requiem.

One advantage to being in the city is that tomorrow, after my second day of sight reading long swathes of the Requiem, I'll be able to stroll back to the condo and collapse. I won't have to pack the car and the kids and drive to the suburbs on Sunday evening.

Instead, I'll be doing it first thing in the morning on Monday.