Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Waning Moon
Saturn Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Sunny and cold

I took it easy on myself yesterday. I worked on my articles. I did some work on both the notes for Adele’s story and the notes for Max’s. I read a bit. I read and commented on new submissions for The Scruffy Dog Review. I put more stuff back in my mother’s kitchen and started figuring out how I’m going to stash the stuff from the North wall in the living room this week. I’m only going to move it bit by bit, so that, on Friday morning, I will only have to move the plants, tape the ceiling, and then I can prime.

Also, since these are the last few days of Mercury Retrograde, I shopped. I went to a favorite little store a few towns down and got deep discounts on a few pieces of clothing that will work well both transitioning into summer and then back out of it. Plus, I bought a new purse – my “winter purse” is tired and needs a rest. The new one is stylish, on sale, and in my favorite color, blue. It doesn’t look too big, but it fits an awful lot, without getting too heavy.

Just when it seemed things were quieting down, there was another development in The Situation. I’m sick of it. It’s depressing.

I visited, for lunch, a friend who’s dog-sitting at one of the McMansions in CT. It’s an enormous house – five bedrooms, six bathrooms, three living rooms, etc., etc. The kitchen was just redone to the tune of well over a hundred grand. It looks beautiful, but trying to cook in it – the spices are across the room from the stove (the kitchen is the size of my mother’s apartment, so it gives you an idea of the sprint), there’s not a cutting board to be found (but the counter tops would show if you tried to cut on them), the microwave is in the bottom of the island, so you have to sit on the floor to use it, the lights are stylish but don’t actually illuminate what you’re doing, and the water in the prep sink doesn’t work. It’s decorated right out of a magazine. And it feels soulless.

Give me an old, slightly funky place any time. A home with some character in it, where people really lived, instead of showing an idea of a life.

I’m so exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The truth is, I’m getting too old to do what I do in theatre and television. The physical demands are becoming more than I can do regularly for sixteen hour stretches indefinitely.

Even though, technically, I had the whole weekend “off”, Saturday was about painting, Sunday was about a migraine, and yesterday was the day I transitioned back into feeling like a writer again. I had the opportunity to create my own day. I had mental putter time as well as physical putter time. I could start listening to characters, figuring out storylines. Clear the Slot is calling to me again, and I’m wondering when I’ll be able to finish the edit – can I slip in a few hours here and there as I paint? The upcoming 5 chapters are the difficult ones – I basically have to rip them down to the foundation and rebuild them, because what I’ve used for the past few drafts simply does not work. I want to reconnect with The Fix-It Girl and Periwinkle. I want to start typing Shallid and get back to work on the adaptation of Glamorous Hearts.

How to fit that in and around the painting and the very strenuous theatre and television work is the current challenge. Making a list doesn’t help, because each day has so much fluctuation in it that it is impossible to plan.

I’ve come to grips with the fact that the GDRS are out the window until The Situation is resolved, once and for all. I’m working on whatever I can in the meantime, and trying to keep on top of things. Both Circadian and 13 Journals need attention this weekend, and, yes, I have to do my taxes. March was wonky for Circadian because so many poems had to be pulled – because the contributors were getting published elsewhere (and usually for money), and the other publishers didn’t yet want the poems anthologized. Which is fine, but there were days when I simply couldn’t hunt down replacement poems for the days because I wasn’t home and when I finally got home, I wasn’t coherent. I hope to get April sorted out over the next few days, and maybe enough into May so that if someone has to pull something, I can publish a May poem earlier. A part of Mercury Retrograde I didn’t expect – but I’m thrilled so many poets are getting published!

Off to the theatre. I have a lot to do when I get home tonight, and then, tomorrow, television world begins again.

Devon

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