Monday, March 07, 2005

the fact that i keep poaching from my own email for the blog

Really isn't a sign of laziness, or even an indication that there's nothing happening between my ears. I am just too damn busy, and every hour there's something else. As I wrote to Thread after rehearsal tonight (keep in mind that she was there too, diligently sewing costumes in poor light, her body hunched into a position that would doubtless make her mother--or anyone's--completely nuts):

My head doesn't hurt, exactly, but it feels pretty damn full. Like I might slosh if I move too fast. Earring handed me another task on my way out tonight, and I'm trying not to think about how much I need to get done...if I think about it, I'll just shut down.

None of which is helped by the fact that I fly to Boston Wednesday morning to do a reading. I'd been looking forward to having a few days away from SF and seeing some people, but I learned today that unavoidable work commitments (my brother's having dinner with some ambassador or other, and I'm still feeling petulant) have made it impossible for two of those people to make the reading proper, and I'm really starting to wonder why I decided to invest this time and money in the first place. My mother will be there, and my brother's wife, which is great, but the rest of the crowd will be complete strangers, and I'm not thrilled about that. It's also eating me that I got the news about both of my no-shows on the same day, when I was already feeling stretched a little thin for a whole host of reasons, and when this has been in the works for three months.

I just have to remember that as stressed out as I'm feeling right now, this is all about leading an interesting life. And I'm going to feel great when I see how some of these things come together--talking to people after the reading, being onstage with the troupe next weekend (eeek!), and running the black ancestral soil through my fingers in May.

First the laundry, then the ecstasy. See, now I'm ripping off my own posts too.