But I did find my belt...
Another Monday. Another weekend past.
... Stupid Monday!
I'm afraid to say I don't have a peck of great news to report. This weekend was spent about as depressed as I get. I had... and continue to have... lost all interest in everything, all motivation. I pretty much had (have) the feeling of, "What's the use?"
So, rather than do house work or even leave my apartment. I spent most of the weekend smoking and crying and not moving.
Oh, it was a barrel of laughs.
In the midst of that, I did something that most people (smarter than I) would suggest was, well, pretty stupid. I wrote Rosa a letter.
And I mailed it to her.
Okay. Okay. Before you start flaming me, let me get my story finished. I'd just watched a great romantic comedy called "Jet Lag", which I knew Rosa would love, and wanted to recommend it to her. On top of that, I'd also found out that Al Stewart is supposed to have a new album out towards the end of the year. Rosa being an Al Stewart nut like me... maybe not as much... I also wanted to tell her that. Not being about to email her and pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate a call, I wrote her a three-paged letter. I only spent half a page telling her how much I missed her. Happy?
Friday night, I spent quite a bit of time drinking, numbing myself, while I downloaded the World of Warcraft beta test. Hey, I might not have time for video games in the midst of this show - but I do have time for World of Warcraft. It's a great game... wish I could play it once they start charging! (Wish I could pay it, is more like it.)
Saturday, playing World of Warcraft, I didn't get out of my apartment until after 5pm!! (It's a bit addicting... and I was depressed... Give me a break!) I had to go out and buy some makeup... for the play... honest. So, off to Sav-On I went, picking up some Neutrogena base, some Pomade, and a bag of Fritos. The cashier looked like she'd just gotten out of high school. She rang up the Fritos, give the Pomade and half-interested look, and paused at the base makeup. She looked sheepishly from behind her counter, "Um... is this yours?"
"Yep," I answered. Welcome to the real world, kid. You're in for more surprises than this!
I got the makeup because Sunday was the show's first dress rehearsal. The Pomade slicked back my hair and the makeup, well... you know.
I hadn't run my lines all weekend.
I should have.
I hadn't drawn a blank on stage in a while and had even forgot how it felt. Last night, I remembered. As Karen tried over and over to get a line out of me - like drilling for water in a cat box - I froze, my mouth half opened, eyes like a deer in headlights.
Afterwards, the wardrobe lady, Suji - who looks amazingly like Julie Starr's mother but I don't dare ask out of embarrassment - said, "You're wearing a brown belt with those grey pants."
Since the last time Teri came down on me, I've been afraid to answer criticisms. "I know... that's what you gave me."
"But you should be wearing a black belt."
"I know... but that's what you gave me."
"But it doesn't match."
"Do you have a black belt you can use?"
I did. A couple months ago, however, in a fit of sleepwalking, I'd lost my black belt - hid it from myself - and hadn't found it since.
"I could try to find it," I offered. And there I was. But when I got home last night, something occurred to me. I had my gym bag in the back, full of gym clothes (horribly underused these days). I reached in - sweat shirts, shorts, socks, towel.... But then, I reached into a smaller compartment, the size of which is barely big enough for keys, and found... the belt.
Score another for Awake Ken. Too bad Sleepwalking Ken is so far ahead.
So, there you go. Rotten weekend. Miserable life. Miss Rosa so much I can't stand it.
But I found my belt.