Pathetic irony

Everything seemed so simple on Wednesday. Even quite good.

Somewhere along the line since then things have got terribly complicated, via miserable.

Coincidentally, on Wednesday we finally got a piano. Almost instinctively, I went into my student-learned habit of playing a Bach prelude and fugue before breakfast every day – starting, for simplicity’s sake, at the beginning of book one.

I say coincidentally, because on Wednesday (when things were simple) I was playing the C major prelude and fugue; yesterday’s miserable mood coincided with the slightly gloomy C minor, though I didn’t make the connection at the time. But this morning, as I struggled into the twentieth minute of playing the C sharp major fugue, where even simple chords like C major are relabelled B sharp major and F double sharp gets way too much attention, I thought to myself “what does this remind me of?” and then I thought, “oh yes – my life”.

If this trend continues, I’m in for a rather gloomy, old-fashioned time tomorrow, but things ought to be quite manageable on Sunday.

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