On a supposed pathological addiction

From reading my Twitter and Facebook posts, I think a lot of people believe that I have a pathological addiction to practicing piano. (I mean, it’s gotten to the point where I wouldn’t let myself go see one of my best friends in the world, who I hadn’t seen in a year, until I’d finished learning my Bach fugue. I have no idea why my friends haven’t dumped me yet.)

While I actually do enjoy practicing most of the time, a lot of my supposed self-discipline boils down to two things:
1. I go into agonies of deep self-loathing and unhappiness when I go too long without practicing or being productive, and
2. I strongly suspect that I am actually a horribly, incurably lazy person and that I have to make a huge effort to keep up with the rest of the world which has everything together.
Anyway, I’d write more, but I have to practice. Toodles!

This photo says so much about me

I often bring food of some sort to keep me going in the practice rooms, and I use music stands as my tables. This was from one particularly intense six-hour stint. (Not seen: a pastry and a fruit-and-nut bar.)