piano

As my fingers nimbly scale up and down the computer keyboard, as I listen to piano music over inadequate speakers, I am struck by a pang that I interpret as a wish that I had continued to take piano lessons instead of stopping after 8th grade. I cannot complain too bitterly: issues of time management and attending school out of town legitimately crowded piano out of my schedule since I prioritized ballet and volleyball and I do not regret sticking with those activities. I also wish that my piano instructor would have started to give me weighty pieces instead of crap infantile arrangements, a situation that left me frustrated and insulted, especially later on.
In the end, there's no way I'm going to buy a piano so I'm stuck this way - fantasizing while rapidly clacking on the keyboard and lamely executing whatever would be the piano equivalent of air guitar while waiting at stoplights in the car.