Fast-Forward to Showtime!


It is a stressful and moderately sleepless period of time for me. It always is before a show.

My official job title is Music Director. Any and all things musically related go through me. This includes the winter and spring musicals. In fact, the explicit purpose of hiring me was 1.) To serve as a musical director for all productions and 2.) To fulfill a Keystone Stars Requirement.

Since, my duties have expanded exponentially. I am a substitute for general education. I have taken all things surrounding fine arts. I am partially a drama teacher. I do some office jockeying. And now, I’ve taken on graphic media and design.

I wish I could post my latest masterpiece, but I’d out myself so fast. It would be one thing if someone else stumbled upon this, as it is. There is still a considerable shadow of a doubt. There are dozens of programs like mine in the city. I could be anyone. Even as I watch Lulu and Em bounce off of each other, there is still no overlap. Not yet, and hopefully I won’t ever have to worry about it.

And this flash in my mind is among the scattered puzzle pieces that leaves a hint: At this point, so what if anyone made the connection? Puh. Yeah, I’m so sure that will be my thought while I’m watching my life go up in flames.

I spent my entire Monday night slaving over that program. I spent all of Tuesday fiddling with the format, stapling the prints, and making handwritten corrections on all 100 copies. Meanwhile, I was lugging a stapler the size of a tripod with me, and two hundred pages of paper.

My mind and my body should be spent.

My hands and my arms hurt like hell. I’m sucking down Ibuprofin and benzos. And yet, I find myself taking on more, and more projects!

In fact, in the last week, I’ve taken on more than I have in the last six months.

I interviewed for a second job on Friday. That went amazingly well. A new grocery store chain is opening up, and I wanted to try to get in on the ground floor. I have a cumulative three years in retail, two and a half in two competing grocery stores. I know my way up, down, and sideways – from registers to stock to pricing. I never thought it would amount to anything, because I’ve always been at the bottom of the food chain. But, this manager wanted me bad. “I could use a person with your experience and education.” Who knew?

I am now officially a Sunday School teacher again. My aunt is having surgery and passed the torch.

I’ve been marketing for a second-hand shop.

And today, I’ve taken on advising and web administration of a fledgling music site of a friend.

Hypomania? Again?

Atypical at best. Overly ambitious. Check. Social. Check. Sexual. Check. Sleepless? No. I was so done last night that I apologized to C.S. for checking out so early.

I can’t make heads or tails of it. And I’m anxious at the thought of exploiting this.

Also, I want to offer my profound apologies to anyone or anything I’ve neglected. And an explanation to go along with it.

In Bricked, I detailed how Tallulah, my Blackberry Curve 9300, took a dive. It required me to completely wipe the device and reinstall.

What a pain in my thumbs! I’ve had to reinstall all of my apps. Everything was going fine until I went to install the Gmail app. Apparently, they stopped offering it in October!

What’s the problem? – you may ask. Well, I lead a double-life of sorts. More like a triple-life really. I have two personal emails and a work email that have always been hooked up to Tallulah. Lulu was through the Gmail App. It made everything very accessible and clean. Now, I’ve had to hook Lulu up to Tallulah, and divert it to a different folder with different alerts. (I get a lot of emails in a day).

In hooking it up to my device, I have only received new emails since Sunday evening. I have a lot of loose ends. Apologies if you are currently under the rug. I’ll get it taken care of throughout the rest of the week.

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7 thoughts on “Fast-Forward to Showtime!

  1. I know you can do it, just be careful not to overload yourself (you know as your friend, I have to say that 😉 ). Sounds like at least everything you have on your plate is pretty positive right now, so yay!

    • Positive and exhausting! It was a wonderful feeling when I saw all of those kids bring it together and totally nail it. I couldn’t have been happier!

      I have seen some snags. But, that’s to come.

  2. 6 AM and i’m still typing. sound faminialr shit, FAMILIAR. bipoal abn aphasic. what can i do but laugh. you’ll have to take what i can give you, cause i ain’y much.

    how’s your grandma? lulu, lulu, lulu. weegonnado? but, in all seriousness, be cafefu. we’re speaking a new language now. a language of grunts and moans, of wails and crys.

    of frustrations. apparenly we’re doing a manic folie deux together. diamonds on the souls of her shoes, now. every body knows what we’re talking about. dancing now! nanana danana danana! danana. danana!

    o-bla-dee, now! how the life goes on!

    Gmail has a googly-eyed emoticon. look at it. its ME!

    who else sould i talk to like this with, but you. [huh?]

    Be careful. I don’t work anymore. i’m retited. Beware the Jaberwok! slow down before you become me!

    TD

    • I’m part-time, and I’m a teacher. Which means that twice a year, I have a looooottt of time on my hands. Fire away. I don’t go back to work until the 4th.

      My aunt says my grandma is doing well, but I don’t believe her. I’m going to try to get down to the hospital today to see it for myself. I talked with my mother last night. In moments where she steps out of the daughter role, she can see it the way I do. I hear her say over and over, “She’s 85. She’s 85, she can’t live forever.” People’s reactions to mortality are interesting.

      Don’t get me wrong. The whole situation is upsetting. But, I learned from a very early age that there’s only two things you can count on – taxes and death. And in the state of Pennsylvania, you can count on taxes on your death, LOL. It’s the natural order of life.

      And you speak my son’s language! He talks just like that! “Hey, mommy. A-weedle-buggie-fub-mungy!” Mungy. He called me that for the longest time. You’d think mommy would be easier!

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