Absence makes the mouthpiece grow fonder

Not awesome in one's throat.

I am nearing the end, I hope, of an unwanted extended vacation from my horn.  The day before Thanksgiving my tonsils decided to balloon to the size of very small balloons, and thus there was... silence.

No horn playing, no speaking even, unless you count self-pitying whimpers.  (Which I do.  Come on, I'm a single girl in NYC and my mom's 2000 miles away.  Someone's gotta feel sorry for me!)  I haven't touched my horn in TWELVE DAYS!!!  Which is the longest amount of time I've taken off since summer vacation in 8th grade when my horn was locked in the roof rack on a family road trip and beer exploded all over it.  Good times.
This time off has been an unfortunate necessity.  It's not even an issue of playing being painful or difficult, I simply cannot make sound on the horn.  The air leaks out my nose and unless I hire a designated nose-plugger for every time I play (that's a prime gig, right there) literally no sound happens.

So what have I been doing with my time on the injured reserves?  To be honest, trying to find people to cover all my gigs for me.  Being a sick freelancer sucks, especially when you're a perfectionist masochist like me and really really believe you can make it to that rehearsal even though you're pronouncing the word "sports" like "ssscchmorrps."  I've also been watching Planet Earth, cuz duh.  And traipsing to all the different ENTs in the city in search of better, stronger, faster antibiotics.  But really, what have I been doing?  Missing my horn.

Missing it in a way that feels very elementary school.  I just wanna take out my mouthpiece and play a few Lion King songs.  (Though that's pretty much all the time, let's be real.)  I open the case just to look at it.  Put it together, feel the weight balanced in my arms.  And yes, I plug my nose and try to play a few very mournful, elephantine notes just so my mouth remembers exactly where the mouthpiece belongs.

What better way to start a slow movement to a Mozart concerto?

I haven't felt this way about my horn in a long time.  It often feels like a burden in its dirty baby-coffin case, bumping into people on the subways.  It often feels like a chore to press metal into my mouth for hours every day when I just did it hours the day before.  And sometimes my lips feel like disembodied fleshy money-making machines which I wish made just a little more money.
But right at this moment, as I'm staring at the lonely case tucked away in the corner of my room, the horn just feels like an old friend that I've known since I was 8 years old.  And I miss that old friend quite poignantly, and am very much looking forward to our joyous reunion....tomorrow? Lips crossed!