Howdy! Here we are at Thursday. Quick checking-in-with-Amy post, how about that? Good, good. It’s like the state of the union address, only much less interesting and much less likely to be torn apart and mocked on Fox News.
So this week is not total lunacy. This week had a couple of things in it, but it’s not too bad. Three days I get to go home after work and put my feet up. (That’s a total exaggeration. I don’t put my feet up. I don’t have anything to put them on. They stay on the floor.) Monday I had a very long day. Here, I will make it into a bulleted list for you. We all like bulleted lists, right?
- Went to work. Worked for a while. Realized it was snowing all the snow. Hadn’t watched the weather forecast all weekend; was not prepared for all the snow. No winter weather gear; highly inappropriate footwear.
- Left early for lunch, but did not go to lunch. Instead, brought the car to the garage. The car decided to go from “I am being mildly annoying” to “I AM BROKEN HELP ME I AM BROKEN!” *flailing arms* on Sunday and started bucking wildly whenever I accelerated or braked and the check engine light came on, so THAT’S fun. Especially when it’s slippery out.
- Went to the garage. I have a total crush on my garage guy. He’s not hot or anything. He’s just nice. And good with cars. And practical. Therefore, I randomly find him attractive. I feel as if he would be the kind of person who would be good at solving all of life’s problems as easily as he solves my car’s problems. He said, “Hey! What’s going on?” when he saw me because he likes me. I like that.
- He took the car for a test drive after I explained what was up. “It’s bucking? Like a horse? And also the warning lights are coming on for things that aren’t wrong, like the emergency brake? And the check engine light is on? And I think it’s not accelerating correctly, like maybe it’s not shifting, but I don’t know that, because it’s an automatic and not a standard? Is any of this helping at all?” He laughed kindly and said, “I’m going to take it for a drive. Be right back.” I like him. A lot.
- He came back and said, “It didn’t do any of those things for me. But when I hooked it up to the computer, it says you need a new catalytic converter. That’s $700. Instead, buy good gas and put this gunk in the gas tank for a few weeks, then come back in for your inspection and we’ll talk options.” (No, he didn’t say “gunk.”) “Am I ok to drive it?” I asked, “Um, yes? I guess, it’s not doing anything for me,” he said. So back to the bucky car goes I. Which immediately bucked. Dammit. (Dad says “Yeah, that car’s about to shit the bed. SIGH SIGH daughter. You are hard on cars.” How am I hard on cars? I totally get oil changes in a timely fashion and sometimes get them washed and always get gas and only go above the speed limit MOST of the time, not ALL of the time. I think I am NORMAL with cars.)
- Then I went back to work and worked the rest of the day. The roads were terrible, because all the snow and slush and garbage on them. Slippery and disgusting. And, again, not appropriate shoes. Or a hat.
- THEN I had to go straight to the theater for a theater meeting. So off I went. The highway was so backed up. I don’t know why. I assume everyone was driving slowly, because of the weather? Blergh.
- At the meeting, we decided not to decide anything. Mostly I repeated the following: “I don’t care, I just want this to be over.” This probably is not the most helpful thing to do at a meeting, but I am…exhausted. I feel like we’ve been talking about the same thing in circles forever. We really haven’t. It’s only been about a month or two. But I feel like it’s been years, and I’m SO TIRED.
- Then we had the critique for our next show. At this point, I was on overload. I’d been going since 6am. It was now 7pm. SO SO BEYOND TIRED. The play was very good; it made me cry pretty much throughout. Which might have been a function of the play or might have been because when I’m tired, I start leaking tears and sometimes it doesn’t stop until I get some sleep. Or a little of both. Either way, the play is very good, and I’m pleased, because that means friend A. did a great job directing it, and I can tell everyone they should come and see it and not even be lying a little bit, and since I have to watch the show every time it’s performed starting Sunday, I won’t be wanting to throttle myself by Wednesday, which is nice.
- Then we watched the play, which is kind of long (very good, but not a brief play), and then there was the critique, which was ALSO kind of long, and then after about half an hour of that, I said, “Friend A.! Can I give you my notes at work tomorrow?” and he said yes, so I skedaddled. (Friend A. is apparently much better at long days than I am, as he had the same length day as I did but he was still up and lively. He’s also 7 years younger than I am, so he’s like a BABY. With all that youthful energy. All that youthful early-thirties energy. Remember that? No, me either. Too long ago.)
- Then I came home. I got home at 11. So, yes, my day was 15 hours long. That is too long. TOO LONG. Then I still had to get ready for bed, so all in all, I got a full 5.5 hours sleep, and I feel like a sticky-eyed zombie-person.
So there was my Monday. Loooong day.
Anyway, here’s the scoop for what’s upcoming:
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, normal days. Work, home, relax a little. One of those days I have to go grocery shopping. Probably Thursday. Keep my fingers crossed the car doesn’t stop working while I’m driving.
Friday night, friend C. comes to town, and we’re going to see Company of Thieves at a local bar (or club, I don’t even know, I just bought the tickets, I haven’t done the research yet) doing an acoustic show, which will be amazing and wonderful. I’m so excited. Then friend C. is spending the night, and I took the day off work on Saturday so I can sleep in and depending on how long she stays, we might even be able to go get some breakfast. I’m hoping waffles. It’s been much too long since waffles happened.
Then Saturday is for me, and I think I will spend it doing laundry. Because I am nothing if not a good time.
Sunday is tech day for my show. I get there at 10, I think we’re planning on about a 6-hour day (but they usually run long.) I’m running something in the booth. I’m not sure what. Lights or sound. (Update: friend A. says sound. That’s ok with me. He’s going to be in the booth with me, which I love. He makes me laugh.) I have to make brownies for tech Sunday at some point, too. Crap, I’m glad I remembered that. Um, maybe Saturday sometime? I’ll squeeze that in there?
Then Monday, tech right after work; Tuesday, I go to a theater and review a play; Wednesday, tech; Thursday, pay-what-you-will preview; Friday, opening night; shows Saturday and Sunday; auditions for the next show Monday and Tuesday. That is ten straight days at a theater, 9 at mine, 1 at another. It’s going to be a long haul and I don’t know that there will be blogging. Maybe? But maybe not. So if I go missing for 10 days, I am not dead. I’m just not getting enough sleep and hanging out in the light booth. I’ll check in with Twitter to reassure you of my living-ness, if I get a chance.
Most honestly, I am dealing with some personal issues that have me…kind of…not feeling the most communicative. So it’s not going to be the worst thing in the world to take a break from things, to be honest. I’ve found myself apologizing a lot for my mood to people over the past few days, and apparently cannot be trusted with it. So it might just be best if I shushed for a bit, for all involved. I’ve often said living in my brain is no cakewalk; this is the part of the cakewalk where it’s more of a house of horrors than a cakewalk, kiddos. With those funhouse mirrors that distort everything, and a lot of that looped screaming in the background that makes you all ultra on-edge.
Sometimes these things happen, jellybeans, it’s the way of the world for those of us with wonky brain chemistry. As The Bloggess in all her wisdom tells us, the crocodiles are always there. Eventually it stops. It’s just not overly fun while it’s here. But you live your life. It’s what you do. Because what’s the alternative, curling up in a ball and crying for a few months? No. That seems wearying, you know? Who has time for that? I mean, you’d have to hydrate a LOT for that magnitude of crying, seriously. I don’t think I have that much fruit punch mix.
So if I’m not bloggy for the next week or ten days or so, I’m HERE, I’m just theatering. Theatrically. Shows don’t just stage-manage themselves, my darling dear ones. It’ll be fine. I have a beeeeeelion archives for you to work your way through. Surely you haven’t read ALL my past posts. (Speaking of which? This here post? #600. SIX! HUNDRED! I know, right? Whoa!) I might have time to write from the theater because there’s free wifi there, but there are also a LOT of cues in this show. So we’ll see what happens. Honestly, I’m going to be lucky to sleep and eat in a timely fashion.
Off I go. It is time to watch the rest of ParaNorman and eat some pudding. As one does. On a Wednesday night. Right? Right. Here I come, pudding. Here I come, the rest of ParaNorman. Wish me luck, interwebs.