A Sharp & D Flat

So noone else thought it was weird. Our final project for the class is given out less than two hours before it's due and, granted, it was a basic music skills class but my subconscious registered that it was indeed a dream and I hadn't attended the class in nine years. It was fun to be back on the campus of my first college and see friends whom I hadn't seen in years. It was cool because I was attending classes as I am now.

Anyway, for the final project the class is split into two groups of five, given a song on sheet music and expected to perform the song for the professor and an audience. One person is selected to play the piano while the other members of the group merely have to sing along. I was selected to play the piano because as a child I took several years of lessons, and it was assumed I'd been paying attention in class. I hadn't.

I have a little over an hour to relearn how to play the piano and pull off a successful cover of, what in my dreams was probably a song by Chicago; I can't remember which one, the assigned music and fool my professor into passing me. So try to study. I try to will myself through the obstacle course of whole notes, quarters notes, scales, etc. I try my best but I have the feeling it's going to be a disaster.

Flash forward to the class final. Group A takes the stage. The piano player, obviously a ringer, starts to tickle the ivories and the song flows out of Group A effortlessly. Beautiful. Well rehearsed. Different! Something sounded different about the song than when I played it. OH NO! I quickly scan the sheet music and realize that I had completely overlooked all of the A Sharps & D Flats in the song. I thought it had sounded weird but my untrained ear could not pin point the problem.

I grab a highlighter and quickly try and scan the sheet music to highlight all of the offending notes so I won't miss them. (Is this cheating?) I only get half a page into the song before we are whisked onto the stage and expected to perform. Our group leader announces our group, and quickly recalls our rehearsal schedule, which I don't remember at all. The instructor gives us the greenlight. I look down at the keyboard and all of the sudden I'm 10 years old again and I haven't been keeping up with my practice. I can only play the melody with my right hand, pecking away with my index finger, all sharps are forgotten, all flats non-existent. I struggle through half the song as the audience cringes in discomfort. My group turns on me and start to plot my destruction. The instructor just buries his face into his hands.

I realize I will never pass the class. I will never graduate from college. I will never fulfill my dreams. I will never get that fabulous career and make enough money to support a family. I will end up on the streets, homeless and hungry; begging for change so I can buy a burger and smoking discarded butts out of the gutter. All because I forgot about the A Sharps & The D Flats! Nooooooooooooo!

Then I wake up.

(In reality, I passed that class with flying colors! I aced the piano test, and played the Ukelele like a pro!)