It went something like this.
Yesterday was the day of call backs for the school musical.I looked at the list, and there was my name, printed in black ink.
This is exciting, right?
Sore throat. Headache. 5 hours of sleep. No lunch. And a preconceived almost sure knowledge that I will not receive a main part, because there is a plethora of girls at my school who are much more qualified than I am.
But I went anyway, because that's just what you do. You go for the experience, and to see what you were at least being considered for.
Well, apparently, I wasn't being considered for anything. That or they forgot to put me with the group trying out for that part.
After 3 1/2 hours of sitting in the same desk, as every other girl in that room was called up to the stage to read lines or perform a song, I was starting to feel a bit puzzled.
"Why the heck am I here?" I wondered and inquired out loud to no one in particular.
When the director said, "Okay, we'll do this last song, and then you'll be free to go," I knew something was wrong.
"Um," I said, timidly raising my hand, "I haven't done anything yet."
That bearded man looked at me quizzically, because apparently he hadn't noticed that I had not once left that hard, brown seat.
"Well...um...I wonder why you aren't...uh, well, let's have you sing with this last group."
So I learned the song that I was never intended to perform, and got home 4 hours after school ended.
And I still had a headache.
And the best part? I might be on a family trip to California during the show dates anyways.
10 points to the I-Make-People-Hate-Life fairy.
P.S. For your daily dose of optimism to prove that I'm not going to die:
Everyone else did great, it was really funny and entertaining to watch them, and I learned a lot. And let's be honest, it's nothing a little chocolate ice cream can't fix.