Late at night

I have so much to say and no time to say it.  Everyone wants a piece of me.  Could someone please remind me why I agreed to be chair?  Oh yes!  I had no choice.  And as soon as my slightly junior colleague gets tenure — haw haw — it’s hers. Payback for those nice departmental letters.  Meanwhile, I pay for mine.

All I want to say now is boo hiss to anyone who is too snobby to admit that Puccini is the master.  Too crowd pleasing, they say.  Too sentimental.  What absolute rot!  I sit alone in the evenings, listening to Madame Butterfly, and I cannot get over it.  A world where this didn’t exist would be ridiculously poorer.

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3 thoughts on “Late at night

  1. Hang in there, girl! I have no doubt you’re an awesome chair – but I agree that it’s a shitty reward for getting tenure.

    I miss tenure.

  2. It’s an odd glass-half-full feeling, isn’t it? “Everybody wants a piece of me; there’s nothing left” can become “everybody wants a piece of me; I must be good at my job.” Somehow, that just doesn’t make it better…

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