One of my gigs next week got cancelled. This is the second time they have fucked us over (The Fireplace in Brookline, a mediocre restaurant whose manager acts like he is doing your band a big favor to book them, and then screws it up) I have the email from him in December offering me March 4, which I accepted. So the other band they booked for that date was obviously booked after us, but rather than do the right thing by bumping them off the schedule, they are bumping us.
I hate the music biz.
Sometimes I even hate being a musician.
Berklee just promoted me to Associate Professor, with all of the glory that entails, and none of the money. The letter informs me that my hourly rate will go up $2.50 (!!!!!!!) in addition to any other increase that the union might get out of these bastards. $2.50 more an hour for all that work I did for a year, writing a book and putting their stupid dossier together.
All they care about at Berklee is if you are famous. That's IT. I will most likely never be famous. I'm 56, and if I ever had a moment, it's past.
I suppose I should be happy for the promotion, but I'm not.
My boyfriend has cancer.
I'm broke, and my bills seem to be increasing all the time.
I'm fat and tired all the time.
I had to increase my meds...
It sucks to be me.
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