It’s been 80 contracts in two days at work.
…Which (because I’m apparently a sadist), I’ve been doing, while streaming hours of Nazi documentaries in the background.
…Then making booking calls in 4 hour blocks.
…Then grabbing a quick bite and driving through traffic to the theatre.
…Working and running scenes in act breakdowns.
…And by 11 or so: jumping back into the heavy needlework.
…Until about 2 a.m.
…While watching BBC.
Two yarn balls have given their lives thus far, for this blanket.
…And four Band Aids.
We be busy in my world.
We also be “cheaty.”
I had an affair with a pizza at 1:30 today. Pepperoni. Because I couldn’t take it any more. “It” being too many tiny numbers, and Nazis, and constant phone calls, and no alcohol, and the urgent bodily need for grease and sanity.
…It’s been over a month since I last tasted the amazement that comes from a pizza box. My god, absence makes the taste buds orgasmic.
In keeping, my butt is now back on the couch, surrounded by grey yarn. I sit here, post-rehearsal going on night two: glued to the telly, getting sucked into my little BBC world while further bruising myself with my crochet hook.
Here is the progress so far:
…And much as I love you: I wanna go back to it.
…And Miss Lane and Laura and the Timmins’, and the Misses Pratt, and Queenie…
…In fact — all of Lark Rise and Candleford put together.
So: Until tomorrow.
…I leave you with a friend’s suggested gift:
You’re welcome.
~D