west uptowner

ulster coin wash late, originally uploaded by plastictaxi.

Night time is the right time for laundry.

Finally took a slow breath tonight, after I don't know how many days of running. I can feel the pressure to stop working, to take time off -- the temptation to fuck off like a surly adolescent instead of going to that meeting and drinking beer all night at the pool hall instead.

I used to call that "lack of vacation sickness".

This week I draughted four discrete shows: two touring gigs (my drawings were based on assumption and questionable communication, so I am not going to put too much stock by them - especially since one of them has been redone 3 times, and could be once more, tonight), one gig for someone else, and a preliminary set design. On the periphery are three other set drawings begging for attention.

If that was all I'd be okay - I love that kind of work. But we just bought a house, and are dealing with a thousand minor details that assault us in waves like surprise attacks from a distant antagonist. And today was a grant application deadline for two huge 3-year programs.

So the tension has been a little heavy at home. At some point yesterday, as she was telling me things that would mean hours of rewriting, and I struggled to grasp everything, I said, "No, but Bea -- tell me that one more time because I'm either slow or stupid right now." She said, "yes. you're stupid". the conversation went down from there.

But today we breathe with confidence, and walk two inches taller, despite exhaustion. For the grants went into the mail, and out of our lives for a few months at least. The pleasure of dreaming up a new life in our own house is sinking in, despite the insurers and bankers telling us our business. And my busy work schedule is about to take in a trip to Italy.

even so, I am surprised by how the mind simply ... stops working when it has had enough. like an old battery.

# posted by trev @ 8:38 p.m.