There’s a phenomenon called second-night slump. Apparently it’s always the worst night in an entire run. All that excitement and sharpness and adrenaline of the first night falls flat and you stumble over words, miss cues, etc. Well, it wasn’t too bad. Just a little ragged in parts, but I was still fairly pumped and while the Alleluia was a little rough all my other stuff went fairly well.
And now I get two days off. Completely off. Then back to work Tuesday, and performances Wednesday through Sunday.
But oh, I do love it! Exhausting as it is, I adore it.
For two days we’ll try to work on my mother’s apartment. I think it has to be empty by August 11th, which means we have a lot of work.
And of course I realized I’ll simply replace TSOM with the book I’m longing to write and need to write, fast. So things are good.
Oh, shit, I forgot. The burial service on August 4th.
I’m more accepting now. I’m sure it’s going to be a bumpy ride, and it was such a shock, but I’ve made peace with her unexpected nastiness the last few weeks of her life (she knew what was on the horizon, subconsciously, and she was fighting it). Did I tell you that Richie went and picked up the ashes, and they’re now on the front dresser with a bottle of Taffy’s ashes on top of the box and the urn of our Springer, Rags, beside her (she adored all dogs but particularly Springer Spaniels). So she’s okay right now — just gotta figure out what to push her ashes in when we bury her.
I haven’t weighed myself, but I don’t think I’ve done much damage, simply judging by my stomach size. I’ll weigh myself when the show is over and hunker down then (or maybe after the 4th). People have been so generous and sweet in bringing food over, but I gotta admit a lot of it isn’t low calorie. Pasta salads, etc.
Oh, And I need to write thank you notes.
Well, bird by bird. I’ll get it done. I’ll figure it out. But today, I rest.
(BTW, our costumes are cheesy. Here’s me sulking when I first tried one on.)
OK, it’s crunch time. Yesterday we started with a line reading (whole play) at ten, then I jumped in my car at 12:25, raced over to Hyde Park (25 miles away), wept copiously at my therapist’s, jumped back in the car and raced back, threw on my costume and landed on stage just in time for the first run through. It wasn’t a complete disaster. 90 minute break, came home and searched for zippers, went back and ran through it again. I’m supposed to put makeup on to look older. No need.
Two zippers for Maria to put in this morning. Line read. A run through and then opening night. OHMYGOD.
Pray for me.
But we had our first run-through of TSOM and some blocking and it was great. Nun rehearsal tonight. In the meantime I’m going to jump in the pool (though it’s a wee bit cool) and enjoy myself.
I’m watching the food, though. I went out to the garden and picked myself some lettuce for a salad for lunch yesterday. And I need to remember HALT. Don’t get too Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired. The main thing is I just have to stop and think before I shove food in my mouth. As I said, my sins weren’t that bad, but they added up, and I want to get some more weight off my knees and flatten more of the belly. I’ve already gotten rid of a whole lot of 2x clothes so there’s no going back.
I’m having to stand a lot during rehearsals, which is hard, but there’s also some walking included, which we keep repeating, so that might help for exercise. And it looks like they’re coming up with a more sensible rehearsal schedule, because originally I was supposed to be there almost 24/7.
Now I have to reclaim my writing. I had a morning to work yesterday, and I went in and was just about to start when the first phone call came. I think I’ll have to turn off my phone when I write (duh!). Go up to the cabin.
Ah, the cabin! Unless all hell breaks loose I’ll tell you about Uncle Arthur’s cabin tomorrow, and you’ll all be mad with jealousy.
It’s looking like I might get Alex for the night on Saturday, which would be fabulous! Fingers crossed.
Exercise. Working on it.
Off-Broadway Debut. Check
Children. Check (I hope)
Writing. Figure it out
Sewing. If possible. Play’s over on the 28th so maybe July goes by without much sewing.
All right. Decluttering will be here and there for the next three weeks while, hey, we put on a show, kids. I’m having a Come to Jesus talk with my mother today, and then simply visiting her a couple of times a week, three max. Then I should be able to focus on my writing.
This will all work out. By the end of July I’ll be skinnier, halfway through the book, and be reaping the benefits of TSOM.
Because I think opening up new avenues of creativity feeds the other avenues. Like if you’re stuck writing you could take up a paintbrush, and vice versa. The way Jenny uses crocheting to stimulate her stories. It’s like exercise for the soul, stretching creative muscles that haven’t been worked in a long time, and it sends blood through all the creative muscles.
Or that’s my theory and I’m sticking with it. So the loins are girded once more for a face to face with my mother the bear. Then back home to write. And see my great godson. (My god-daughter’s baby and BFF’s first grandchild).
Nothing but good times ahead.