I Am Just Fried, Gang

My brain is really just wandering in the morass of this play. I am lost, gang, you know? Not sure even what I’m trying to say in this segment anymore.

I’m leading up to a critical point — where Helen’s grandson is crushed by a train.  It is the worst moment of her life and she never really recovers from the loss. But we, as the audience, “re-live” the accident while Helen is still in the dream of being inside her painting, because that is where all her loved ones “come to life” while being in the sweet hereafter…

But I myself am just lost right now, trying to find my way through it.

I miss those days when I was still writing Blessed By Light. I really, really miss that novel. It felt like my dear and constant companion, you know?

Plus, I’m 2 weeks behind in writing new segments for In the Shadow of Narcissa. But I’m going to be in NYC in one month, and the initial rehearsals are supposed to start for this play that I have not finished revising. So I really can’t even think of doing anything else right now. And I am thoroughly exhausted.

And I still can’t decide if I’m going to drive to New York or take a plane.  And I really ought to make that decision soon.  I kind of hate being locked into a flight; if I drive, I have lots more control over when I come and go. But I think: if I’m this exhausted now, what will I be like in a few weeks? It’s a ten-hour drive each way.

I just don’t know. I wish someone would make all my decisions for me from now on and just say: “Here, this is what you’re gonna do.” I won’t have to think every gosh darn day, you know? From sun up to sun down.

Oh wait. I think they call that prison… Or high school.

But on  another note.

You know what I discovered? The school tax is unbelievably high out here in Muskingum County. Back, many months ago, when I was doing my taxes, I thought my math was way off — no way could anybody’s school taxes be that high. So I decided not to pay it because I knew that the State would eventually get back to me with the bill and tell me the real amount.

Yeah, well. They did. And now it’s even higher because they tacked on late fees and interest. Boggles my mind. I’ve never lived anywhere where the school taxes were so high. For the amount I have to pay now for school taxes, I could have re-booked that suite at the Algonquin Hotel.

Doesn’t really seem fair, does it? I mean, I don’t have kids. No one I even remotely know is going to school around here. And yet every writer I’ve ever worshiped has stayed at the Algonquin Hotel.

Grumble, grumble. Wouldn’t want the children of Crazeysburg to be under-educated, would I?

Well, gang, I’m not even going to try to get back to work here tonight. I am going to collapse on my bed and stare at my maple tree as night falls outside my window and hope that something Muse-worthy comes to me before daybreak tomorrow because the days are really just zipping by.

I cannot adequately tell you how stressed I am.

Hope you all had a good day out there; wherever you were and whatever you did! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys! (Oh, I leave you with this — just because I thought it was so funny! I was googling images of “bad cats” — you know, mean cats — and I got “naughty pussies” instead!!) (I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how delighted that made me.)

Okay. See ya.

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