I already finished teaching all of my classes for today (except for an evening rehearsal without the benefit of teen angst) and so am working on a variety of non-contact sorts of work or similarly related projects. It's my favorite kind of procrastination! Putting off one project to work on another!
Which is good, because while I'm sitting here (1) adapting a short story for high school students to perform, I'm also (2) casting the next project I'm directing while (3) considering which chapters of a book to adapt for middle schoolers while (4) getting married in 109 days.
The good thing about (4) is that upon using it as procrastination from (1), (2), and (3) I discovered that the deadline for the picnic reservation lottery is today. Today.
Form filled out and ready to be faxed. I can even do it whilst on a little coffee break. (Which would make (5).)
I'm about to go meet with this year's teen playwright...and I'm a little disappointed. I mean, not with the educational value and all that crap, but WHERE IS THE ANGST?
There are no drug overdoses (no drugs AT ALL!!), no abortions, and no sucides. Sheesh.
There is that one dying child, but, like, where is the ACTUAL PAIN???
You'll be pleased to know that there is a short scene with The Voice of the Psychiatrist as well as a support group meeting.
We'll see how it goes in discussion, but so far I only have one plan to make this play work: rewrites.
And if that doesn't work, well, there's always Make My Fiance Read the Main Role.
That seems to work for any number of people!
(Which is not to imply that for the people for whom such a plan has worked was because they needed to disguise the writing--because that is neither true nor fair--it's just that ol' Yellow Dog is just so popular and crap...and certainly looks good in a pair of bunny slippers.)
Omygosh! I just opened the fridge and there's chocolate milk in there!
This is the best work-at-home day ever!
(Yes, I bought it last night. Yes, I promptly forgot about it. It still has appeared by magic...al thinking.)
If your tidying-up skills are anything like mine, they go a little something like this:
Stand up, sit down, fight fight fight!
(Replace the word "fight" with "read" or "two-hole punch" or "reminisce" for more accuracy.)
A few things I've recalled today:
In the meantime, the apartment is looking more like a home. You can tell because I framed three postcards with the aid of a butter knife and Yellow Dog has wielded the mighty Power Drill.
PS Thanks to a certain someone, I am beyond addicted to this.
We bought a couch yesterday. The saleswoman was impressed with our color choices.
I'm just glad that it will be free of cat hair.
(At least, I will be 8-10 weeks from now.)
((It was reallyreally fun sorting through all of the fabric swatches. Dorks, all!))