Sigh.

I’m starting to doubt my sanity. Person after person has asked me if I’m preparing for a book discussion being held on Wednesday night.

It’s nice to be loved. However, I’ve been doing something every Wednesday night for almost two years now. It’s that thing called orchestra. “Nope,” I say when invited to Wednesday events, “no can do – that music thing, you know.”

Except now I’m beginning to feel vaguely Twilight Zone-like. Maybe dimensions have warped, and timelines have crossed, and in this timeline, my orchestra never existed, which would explain why I’m the only one who remembers it.

I’d be more worried if I wasn’t working on a press release announcing the orchestra’s new conductor, and receiving regular e-mails and calls about it. So orchestra exists in at least some other minds.

It’s rather amusing, actually. Maybe aliens have descended and have wiped selected memory banks. Or maybe I should just be more vocal about my extracurricular activities. You know – share openly with confident, voluable enthusiasm. Enough of this self-effacing shyness! I’m a cellist with the Lakeshore Chamber Orchestra, and we rehearse every Wednesday night!

Surprised?

Never mind.