Six-hour rehearsals on Saturday and Sunday, and I'm sitting here wondering where the weekend went. Still, carpooling with Phil is nice, though we didn't say much this afternoon. We were all talked out, and we were bloody pooped to boot.
Smashed a HUGE spider on Scrooge's bedroom floor with my script this morning. The pencil that I'd clipped on the script went flying, and I never found it. Celestina nearly wet herself when she saw that thing scurrying towards her, and I am her new hero. It's just a spider, for goodness' sake, but who am I to talk when I turn green and run away screaming at the sight of garden slugs?
We have to be off book by Tuesday night. Phil is really anxious about it, and I am scarcely less so.
Dane and I keep stomping away at our dance number, and we'd just got to the point where we felt comfortable when the news came through that they expect us to go through the one-minute routine in thirty seconds. Oh. Crap.
I made an appointment a month ago for a haircut and color, but Marla the Director talked to me about it Thursday. No matter what I slap on my head to make it look like I have long hair, it has to have something to be fastened to, so I couldn't cut it when I went to the salon yesterday. My hair would have been too short otherwise. I'm going to look like a shaggy beast until the Tuesday after we close.
One of the SSHG Anniversary prompts has made me think and speculate. I've written some thoughts about it and will let it simmer for a bit, because I'm a leetle
busy at the moment. Not sure if I'll get it in in time for the festival, but I'll see what I can do. Watching one of the Potter movies for research (any excuse), and I'll read the corresponding scene later tonight. I must get chocolate chips tomorrow, because the jar is empty.
Took Phil by work to print out some sheet music Marla e-mailed us last night. He met one of the librarians and got a little tour of the offices while my computer woke up. It's kind of nice that SOMEONE where I work knows that this boyfriend I've been talking about isn't imaginary.
a week or two ago and am having a marvelous time reading fic and looking at art. I usually swap out my desktop background once a day, but I've had John Watson in Afghanistan
there since the art showed up in the comm. (Un-GAWA.)
Boring afternoon. I have a flat that desperately needs to be cleaned, but the only motivation I've been able to muster is the fact that I don't want to start the work week with a dirty hobbit hole, so it's slow going. I think it's that I'm not used to it being dark so early, but I'll get over that presently. The cats have enjoyed all the cuddling I've lavished on them, though. If I'd ignored them today, I think they'd have pissed on everything in sight to get my attention.