April 10, 2009

7:22 p.m.

Proceeding "As If"

The last time we did a school show (recycling program, elementary school) was sometime last year, probably in the summer. We have one next week, so yesterday was rehearsal day to put the show back together.

We'd pre-e-etty much completely forgotten it. Not only that, I forgot to bring my script from the last show, and even left at absolutely the wrong time to ever get to rehearsal on time. I don't know what I was thinking, except NOT. When we started going over the songs, Chris couldn't remember what key any of them were in. He had to go downstairs and open up Pro Tools and listen to our recordings.

Somehow we slogged through both versions -- younger and older kids, slightly different -- and plugged in some specifics for the local recycling rules. We went over all our little funny schticks and stuff we do with props. One of my jobs is to click the remote for the power point presentation -- everything depends on those screens, all our dialogue, songs, everything. (I'm SO important!) By late afternoon our brains were full and we were exhausted.

I still have to find, revise and reprint my script, and just go over things on Monday or Tuesday on my own. Wes loaned us his projector again. We head out Wednesday evening, stay overnight with some people, and do our two shows Thursday morning. Make a couple-a bucks, then come home.

April was going to be the month where we did lots of school shows back to back, but Carol was only able to book this one.

I'm stopping taking Cymbalta.

It's made me so sleepy I can hardly get out of bed. I tried taking it every other day and I'm still pretty nonfunctional. Been going to the track and running around yawning all the way. Or not going. Rose said she'd have me try Lexapro. I am appreciating feeling happier, but not at the expense of mobility.

I'm tired again tonight, but I earned it by cleaning Rose's house again. I found schmutzz I never saw before. It always amazes me that no matter how much I clean there, there are always a few things I miss or decide not to do that time because enough is enough. I just couldn't do this for a living. I have great respect for those who do, who care to do it well.

The cats were so much fun today. Linus got his time outside and also in the attic. Arthur, the scaredy-cat, actually did both of those things as well. He stayed outside a longish time, for him. He stalked some dirt, then chased a bee, then went into the barn to do cat things that we don't see. I was proud of him. Linus had a staring contest with Pumpkin, the Rottweiler beyond the next door fence, who Rose says is a sweetheart of a dog. Of course Linus was way across the yard, nowhere near Pumpkin. But they saw each other; oh, yes. I have not personally met Pumpkin yet so I don't go up to the fence, but I'm hoping her (his?) owners will introduce me soon.

Anyway whenever I'd encounter Linus I'd pick him up cradle-style and he'd look upside down at everything, purring. What a happy cat. I want to be Linus in my next life.

Marc and a friend were replacing bushings on the Dynahoe. Later in the afternoon Pearl and her sweetie came home, and they managed to work quite a bit on the chicken coop before it rained.

By the time I left, I was tired and spaced out and I left my laundry at the house. It doesn't matter; I have no gig this weekend and I can go back tomorrow and collect it. Just as soon as I can get myself out of bed. I'm not rushing anything.

Oh -- almost forgot. I did talk with Angela, R&M's realtor friend, yesterday. She was so helpful. Marc confirmed later that she's doing this because she's a friend, not because she wants to get involved in a sale. She had limited understanding of these certain loans I'm looking into, but said she can put me in touch with a mortgage broker who can answer all my questions. Meanwhile Rose had given her an overview of the situation with My House (I feel like I ought to trademark that title), so she knew basically what I wanted to talk about. She asked me to email her a scan of the assessment page I printed from the town hall, and said she would call town hall and do some research on the property so that I would be well-armed when it comes time to talk to Son again. If we are able to have it appraised, she's the one we'd call. Marc suggested it would be good, if the sale goes through and all, to offer her some money for her trouble, depending on how involved she gets. (We've had it in our minds to offer to buy directly from Son, to save him realtor costs.) I had already thought of that. I sent her the scans this morning, also a copy of the quit-claim deed from when Old Man bought it in 1956. (He wasn't an Old Man then, certainly.) She was also very praising of Marc's house-inspection skills. He finds things that official inspectors don't find, because he's done all these types of work on houses. I just want to get down to the bones of the house and see what it's really made of. And I want Son to get over his heebie-jeebies about the house and his past, and talk to me. I'll proceed as if that's what's going to happen.