Confessions of a Failing Freshmen (College)

MARCHING BAND

As I wait outside of the terrifying wooden doors composing my fear, thinking I was hot shit. Defining hot shit; - I thought myself how to play bells, timpani, and quads/ quinces(Plus I am a girl percussionist). But my old high school never marched or competed, or even retaught the drummers/percussionist to read music, let a lone mark time, nor how to tune a timpani.  So I talk shit about how I play quads and how thats what I am going to do.  But the second I step into the rooma and look at the music before me, it's the not the music I spent the last 2 months memorizing which psyched me out even more.  So the first thing I vomit out is that I am Dyslexic and that this might not be so amazing.  I continued to stare at the random notes in front of me trying to read it before they'd ask me the worst question to ask me, but they combine the worst two questions you could ever.  Can you mark time and sight read base 4 part.  So let me explain playing base is hard and base 4 is the hardest because you have to look at the other 3 parts and try not to freak out.  they looked at me and assumed thats what I played so I was already offended because they didn't even give me a chance. So I started at the paper once again, as it jumbled up I answered them that I could try but I am Dyslexic and my old band never really did march much.  So the professor comes next to me and counts out and I try one measure and get assigned CRASH SYMBOLS. Which in my high school band means that you can't do shit. So I ran out of there in tear and told the person good luck because it wasn't easy. Symbols. I PLAY QUADS. Or at least I used too.  

So after setting up my room and telling my mom goodbye was very hard. My mom is my wall. But whatever I get up at 7 get ready and get comfy clothes on as my roommate waits at the door and smile awkwardly as we walk from the dorms to the practice field, which is a parking lot...