Tom plays in an orchestra through his workplace. They have 2 'seasons' - Spring and Winter. They play lunchtime concerts at various venues and I try to see them play at least once each season.
The amount of times I have visited his workplace could probably be counted on one hand.
Each time I do, I am overwhelmed by the differences between the world in which he lives every day and the one in which I live.
The most prevalent indicator was in the way people were dressed. I wouldn't even know how to dress so beautifully every day. I felt a small twinge of insecurity. These are the women my hubs sees every day. These women in their smart outfits and their clicky heels and their shiny hair. These women who looked so comfortable in their multi-hundred dollar outfits. I sat there in my gauze skirt and T-shirt (I had broken out a ribbed Henley for the occassion - because even a SAHM needs a day to be fancy), trying to disappear. I felt pretty when I left the house. I was Kroger pretty, not workplace pretty. I became painfully aware of my hair in it's 'growing out' state. I took notice of my 'not so fresh' manicure. I became very self-conscious of everything about my appearance.
Everything about the working world looked so glamorous and polished - in direct opposition to my existence. It was almost like visiting a beautiful, exotic foreign land. I haven't entertained such a romanticized notion of the workplace since before I was old enough to work.
I watched these beautiful people - men as well as women - going about their lunch hour, stopping to listen to a song or two then moving on. I ruminated on their casual comaraderie and the fact that they had someone to share their lunch with every. single. day. I wasn't jealous as much as I was in awe.
Now I know they don't have a live orchestra in the lobby every day, but since they do every time I'm there, it's easy to pull up that visual when I'm sitting at home eating leftovers in cut off sweats and bare feet, huddled over my laptop.
The funny part is, I know there are probably many folks in the workforce who would just LOVE to be home in cut off sweat pants and bare feet. The grass in my yard is greener than the marble on the lobby floor.
I feel the need to cut short my 'everyone's life is more interesting than mine' rant, though, to tell you a little bit about the concert. It was really good. Not 'good for a volunteer orchestra' good, but really good. Tom had been very excited about their spring selections and I could see why. One piece was particularly exciting. The story went something like this (Tom, if I get it wrong, feel free to jump in on the comments and correct or amend):
Their orchestra leader was listening to classical music on satellite radio and heard this song he really dug. He jotted down the name and started seeking a score so that the orchestra could play it. The score was not to be found through any of his usual channels. Turns out that this particular tune has never before been performed live in the United States (it has been somewhat widely performed in Russia, if I understood the story correctly). He acquired the score, the orchestra played it, and it was magnificent. To listen to this little orchestra playing the American debut of a piece was quite exciting. The piece was called "The Assault on Beautiful Gorky", if inquiring minds want to know. It was quite lovely.
So maybe my life isn't so mundane after all. I might not have fit in there, but there I was. And it gave me a swell story to tell today, huddled over my laptop in my cut off sweats and my bare feet.