Don't get me wrong. I love my life, I love my job, I love my wife (I just threw that last one in there so she wouldn't say why did I not mention her with all that talk of love) but sometimes I get so tired that I don't know how to be un-tired.
This is an example of my week:
Monday- (Day) Asheville. Fabric/ prop shopping for J & H. Most people would think this would be a great day away from the office. Imagine trying to plan every meal for a group of strangers for a year. That is the equivalent of designing a show. You have a "taste" you are going for, you just hope you can find the correct ingredients and if one certain spice is not available, then you have to change the whole dish and sometimes an entire meal on the spur of the moment. At the same time, you have to think ahead and behind to make sure you don't serve chicken and rice three meals in a row or even worse become predictable and serve it at the same time every week in the same portion. If you don't get this analogy, it's ok. It makes perfect sense to me, but then again so does flushing the toilet after you pee and most people that use the restroom at the theatre don't agree. (Night) Two and a half hours of rehearsal and the end of Dancing with the Stars. That show drives me crazy, but at the same time you can't look away. Oh Monday evening, why do you have to forsake us with nothing to watch after rehearsal but a group of "B" listers with spray tans?!?!?!??
Tuesday- (Day) Begin building costumes. Pull everything from the warehouse that might work for J & H. Sounds simple. No need for another analogy. (Night) Two hours of rehearsal. My 40 hour week is half way over (time card wise.)
Wednesday- More of the same. (Day) Building, planning, (Nigh) rehearsing. Costumes everywhere. Fabric everywhere. Chinese children singing "Joseph"- that was the best part.
Thursday- Nikki goes out of town. Sleep patterns get worse. One would think being elbowed all night would be uncomfortable. It seems to have the opposite affect on me. When I am not being kicked, I stay awake. Last rehearsal of the week- must fit all the costumes we have completed the last couple of days in order to finish them over the weekend.
Friday- (Day) Sew, sew, sew. (Night) Show, show, show. Luckily it only went over about 45 minutes. I got home a little after 11pm.
Saturday- Matinee show... Matinee marathon. Seven hours later and five loads of laundry it is done. Let us celebrate by eating a pizza for a late dinner.
Sunday- Back to Asheville for second round of fabric. The meal changed a bit and portions needed to be adjusted (see above analogy.) Nikki came home (yay!) and we went to bed early. Early by our standards- late by the rest of human kind's. I just got elbowed and couldn't go back to sleep because I began going over all the lyrics to J & H, my plan for the week, my plan for the nest three weeks and wondering how many of the chocolate chips cookies setting on the counter I can put in my mouth at once. I've already brushed my teeth, so the answer to the cookie question must wait for another day.
This past week, I consider to be a rather relaxed week. Just imagine- oh I feel sorry for you mere mortals (like Harry Potter). Incidentally, I saw an interview on tv not long ago with JK Rowling which made me think I might like to read those books. Needless to say, that thought lasted all of a few blinks and I have since remembered I don't like to read- unless you count the two scripts (one a quick comedy, the other a wooly mammoth) I am currently editing which are squeezed into everything else.
Things I neglected to mention:
A loose hose in a janitor closet caused a severe flood in the office. Conrad Birdie has a water line across his ankles. 94. 8 percent of old people are cranky and no, just because you have lived longer than me it doesn't give you the right to say to me, "Now, son...". This week I saw a used (pardon me, pre-owned ) car lot of wheelchairs. You know that scene in the Wizard of Oz where the four lead characters almost make it to the Emerald City, but first they have to cross the field of poppies. Imagine if the poppies were wheel chairs and you will see what I saw. I love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love Dr. Pepper from Chic-Fil-A. It is the perfect combination of of magical syrup and explosive carbonation. Chic-Fil-A, when the rest of the world do me wrong, you do me so right.