Then there will be those of you see me on a regular basis that will say "But you look like you're having such a great time!" Of course I love seeing everyone again! But nearly throwing up because of anxiety is not a very good feeling.

On Wednesday, when I originally thought my essays were due, I felt sharp pains in my stomach. It got so bad at one point that I went to the bathroom just so I could stay still for a few moments. When the Art History period finally came, I relaxed.

I still had some fish to fry though. My schedule was an object of ridicule. I signed up for A.P. Music Theory, Physics, Intermediate Orchestra, and Weight Training; but what I got was Korean, Chemistry, Lifetime Activities (a seemingly-lame gym class), and General Music. It was hilarious, if by hilarious I meant mind-numbingly awful.

I spent hours before school started correcting my schedule, winning small battle by small battle. I eventually turned Korean into Computer Architecture and Logic (where we'll be studying binary and hardware), and Chemistry into Physics. I was nearing the completion of the schedule that I wanted when all of a sudden school started and a twenty dollar fee was imposed on the very notion of trying to change one's schedule.

And I still did not have my Orchestra class, and I was not happy. I spent awhile after the first day trying to figure how I could incorporate something that so impacted my life back into it. What I did figure was that I could switch into the Physics class in the fifth period, drop my General Music class which was in that period, and sit in with the orchestra teacher during his second period.

It was foolproof, it had to be. I typed up a proposal in about twenty seconds, received a signature of approval from the Orchestra teacher, and headed to the main office to do what could've been one of the most important things I'll ever do in my life.

But the schedule programmer had just left a few minutes earlier. Such was my luck, I had to try the next day.

And so I did, but never before had I experienced the red taped bureaucracy that my school is known for more than that day. What I could've finished in the morning in mere minutes was delayed again and again until after school! In the morning I was told to try again during my lunch period, during my lunch period they told me I more loose ends to tie up after school. And when I finally was able to finish my business, I handed them their twenty dollar fee, ans was told to come back the next day to see if the transfer was possible.

The next day, I checked with them, "No, it's impossible to do it. The physics class you want to go in is full."

My heart sunk, "What do you mean? When did it fill up? I thought it was still open!"

"The last possible student transferred in yesterday."

And right then and there, I just wanted to collapse. Red tape had prevented me from what was one of the greatest things to ever have happened to me, the viola. The rush of playing on stage would forever be a memory to be enjoyed and longed for, but only a memory. And right then and there, I knew that any possibilty of playing in the future vanished into bureaucracy, never to be heard of again.

And worst of all, they won't give me back my twenty dollars.

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