Thx Zen and Strix! Best sleep last night in months. I almost feel human. Yay!
ND, dude, 20 hr days are good for no one. Unless you are a house cat and those 20 hrs are spent napping. Then it would be pretty rad. Have you heard of this thing called "burn out?" I still have anxiety dreams about theatre. Always, ALWAYS they center around a particular director I hated working with. Last week's was new, i was trying to run a first rehearsal directed by Des (from my LJP days) and had done zero prep work. No daily call, no rehearsal schedule, no company business paperwork, nothing. Then all the actors disappeared after lunch break and i couldn't figure out where they were. My dreaming self was horrified that i had lost my cast and went to extreme lengths to find them (doing dialect work in a diff building, apparently) but my waking self thinks "excellent, not my problem anymore" and washes her hands clean of that manipulative jerk of a director. Ok, not that that is in any way a direct parallel of you working for yourself and just having way too much going on cuz that's how the $$$ comes in, but in that overexerting oneself lingers in the subconscious.
ND makes me worry about his health. A lot.
So as I was leaving for what's going to be my daily (M-F) trip to have radiation to some areas in my hips where the cancer was flaring up, the brake and battery light came on in my car. Googling shows that's usually the alternator. I spent $1,900 on that car less than two months ago. I made an appointment with the dealer for 8 a.m. tomorrow. Then my neighbor called. Her cat, which she's only had a month or so, died without warning. Her grandson stays with her when his mother is working, and he's there this weekend. They had both already become very fond of the cat, who was a playful Maine Coon cat mix only a few years old. She wanted to take the cat right away to the cremation place she had taken her elderly cat to several months ago, so asked if I could stay with her grandson. I'm going to take him with me to the car place.
I feel like the axis of misfortune.
Oh, Ginger. My condolences for your neighbor's kitty. And may the alternator not be hideously expensive.
I feel like the axis of misfortune.
No, you really aren't.
But I am sorry for all of the stress and the poor Maine Coon. I hope it's not the alternator or at least not expensive.
She was a very pretty cat. Googling tells me that some Main Coons inherit a heart condition that often kills in the first five years. It hit the grandson pretty hard.
Aw, Ginger. Sorry for the kitty and the stress and may the car repair be simple and cheap.
Oh, Ginger, what a pile of wretched. All my vibes to you, and your friend and her grandson. And if she trusts you to be with him, you're clearly not an axis of misfortune; you're a safe place.
It's the alternator. $800. *sob*
