9 July
I wanted to cut work yesterday so badly.
Sunday night, I was thinking that I wanted to, and usually when I start thinking that way, I do in fact cut, but this time I was a grownup about it and went into work anyway. Man, it was hard, but there's so much to do that I know that I wouldn't have been able to enjoy laying around the house, because I would have felt so guilty.
When I got into work, I realized that they would have been fine without me, that it's only my sense of being indispensable that makes me think that everything falls down like a pack of cards without my shoring them up with my mere presence, but since I only knew that when I got in, I wouldn't have known that had I stayed home, and I still would have been miserable and guilty and wasted a good day off by being unable to enjoy it properly.
One thing I did, though, was sleep in.
I was going to get in early and I set my alarm for 7a. then hit snooze until nearly 8a, when I realized that there was no real reason to get in early, just my misplaced guilt for taking two whole days off in a week where both of those days nothing happened and the office closed early, and I re-set the alarm for 10a, turned over and went back to sleep.
My vacation body alarm has not turned off yet, though, so I kept waking up to look at the clock, and then I finally woke up at 9.59a, and just got up, beautifully rested and happy as a clam. Funny how sometimes 10a feels like I'm getting up in the middle of the night, but a few days of getting up earlier than that and it feels like the most decadent, luxurious lie-in imaginable.
I had this really strange dream that I was in the car with Cynthia and she was driving me to work at the library on 53rd St., though we were going along the LA freeway to get there. Baldrick and Elvis were both in the car, running around all over it, and then I realized that there were actually two of each of them. And then Monty was in the car too, and I suppose Milo was, except that I didn't see him, I just knew that all my cats were in the car and two of them were doubled, so that made six. I had four cats for so long that even now when I have only three, my subconscious knows that there should be four and adjusts accordingly.
Anyway, now that there were six cats, I knew that I couldn't bring them all to work with me, not at the library, after all, so I was trying to talk Cynthia into taking them home, and then I noticed that one of the back windows was open. As I leaned across to close it, Baldrick leapt out. We were driving down the freeway, remember, and I yelled at Cynthia to pull over, that we had to get Baldrick. It took her a little bit to change lanes and get all the way over to the left, but she finally stopped, and I opened the door and started running back to where he had jumped out, and I heard this drumming sound, "Thrumpetty, thrumpetty, thrump thrump thrump," and it was Baldrick's paws galloping on the dirt of the shoulder, and he was running towards me and he jumped into my arms.
And I woke up, and Baldrick was there, of course, and I cuddled him vigorously, glad that he had run in the right direction to find me, telling him, "For heaven's sake, don't jump out of any more car windows!"
I got lunch yesterday at this bistro-ish place down the block where I get ham and cheese croissants sometimes, when I feel I need fattening up, and while I was there, I was offered a sample of their new white chocolate mochaccino, and I, remembering the joyous moment when I first held to my lips that elixir knows as a chai crème frappuccino, took one, eagerly.
Mistake. All of the white chocolate and the slushy ice bits and the sugar in the world cannot make up for the fact that there is actually coffee in this. I drank the whole thing, too, I tried to like it, but for hours afterwards I would taste coffee every time I exhaled, and it was all breathe in, breathe out yuck, breathe in, breathe out yuck, breathe in, breathe out yuck all afternoon.
I think I've worked it out, that there is nothing that they can do to coffee that will ever make it drinkable. That chai crème frappuccino that I'm so obsessed over? No coffee in it, you see. God, I want one right now, too. Don't tell me they don't put heroin in it, or crack, it is not possible for it just to be a plain drink when I have thought about it every spare moment for three days.
Not to mention the fact that they gave me that first one for free, always a sign that you'll have that ice-blended monkey on your back soon enough.
Yesterday also was back to the salt mines as far as my show was concerned.
I still don't have a kid, Moira worked like a dray horse while I was relaxing on vacation and removing Canada's entire supply of bath products and Diana Wynne Jones books, but to no avail.
Before I had gone, Lee had suggested an adult actress that had played a ten year old in a show a couple of years ago, and I had her call her as a backup, and she said that they had spoken and that the childwoman was in Florida, but would be coming back and was interested.
I decided yesterday that that was it, that I was going to have to give up on the idea of having an actual child in my show, so I called the childwoman to see if she really was availible, but she has yet to call me back. What is up with this role? The rest of the show is going so well, why is this one role cursed?
Today's
horoscope:
Information/stimulation overload! You could feel overwhelmed by papers, messages, meetings, and demands. Simplify your schedule.
One year ago today:
Mostly, when directing, you take an actor that is more or less in the same shape as the character and knock off the corners that don't look like the character, like sculpting a bird, trim away everything that doesn't look like a bird. But if there is no bird in there, what do you do?
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Last Updated Mon 22 July 14:41:09 2002