music festivals...

Thursday, Friday, Saturday- district music festival. Yesterday I went to gym and was forced to do pushups to a soundloop of a deranged woman repeating over and over "down... up" with a really catchy cadence to her voice.
I did 29, more than the whole class except for one person, but I my grade will still drop because I got 31 last time.
Yesterday I had my piano solo at district festival. My arms ached from pushups. My hands shook. I was so scared I'd forget part of it that the middle lacked expression. I wanted so badly to do well, to prove my mother wrong who said I couldn't and wouldn't. But I screwed up again. Then I had to endure three painful hours of symphony practice. (There's a concert on my birthday, May 21st. YUCK!).
Today I had two orchestra performances, in which I was first chair bass and first chair second violin, the second of which I messed up during the sight reading but thankfully did not lead my section astray.
I also had my cello solo, for which my arms ached and my eyes itched from fatigue. Apparently I did really well, played with all the expression I lacked yesterday. I can't stand life's irony.
Tomorrow, after another grueling symphony rehearsal (with many yet to come before the concert in a week... we're playing Mahler's resurrection symphony) I will play my violin solo. Now I really wanted to do well on my piano one, and on my cello one. But in heart, violin will always matter most to me. It's what I started first, ten years ago almost exactly when I was five years old in kindergarten. It's what always disappoints me the most when I fail. Last year's disastrous performance sent me into a mental breakdown that lasted for days.
I am confident about tomorrow. I couldn't practice more, or know my piece (first movement of Bach's Concerto number 1 in A minor) any better. And I want, more than anything, to succeed. There must be some justice, some fairness, some order in life. I demand it.
Man I hate these festivals.