Jeez, do you ever feel like you've reverted back a few years and without meaning to you're suddenly acting and responding to situations the same you way you would have when you were much younger? I'm currently in that spot. I'm going to give you more details than I normally would just because I need to vent. And in my opinion, the elusive world known as blogging is a great place to do that.
Background information: When I was in high school, the Homecoming game was a big deal (as I'm sure it is most anywhere). Halftime was a huge production, with Dance Company, Drill Team, and Cheerleaders coordinating on a theme, learning a big group routine together, and putting together routines for each individual group. Practices would start at the end of summer, and it was always just really fun and awesome.
Well, now that I've been coaching for a couple of years, I really wanted to try and organize a similar show. I spoke with the coaches of the other organizations and planned things out, scheduling practices for this week (since Homecoming is Friday) for the big group piece. It remained undecided who was choreographing the group routine, but I really wanted to be a part o f it just because I had some fun ideas. With all the craziness of trying to get my cheerleaders ready, any attempt to nail down the group details was derailed so I was kind of developing the impression that the group routine wasn't going to happen.
However, I found out today that the group routine had been taken care of and additionally, it was choreographed to the song I had suggested and that I had had a lot of ideas for. I know I shouldn't care, but my feelings are just really hurt right now. Really all I should care about is that my desire for the group production is coming to fruition, but that's not how I'm feeling right now. I feel robbed of the chance to help bring my plan to action. But more than that, I feel like my idea was stolen from me in a way. I don't really know how to explain what I mean by that, but at least I've gotten it out of my system.
Okay, Wendy. Time to grow up and move on.
