my week; a recap

I've worn the same earrings all week, and I wonder why I don't just DO that. It's been a nice sort of symbolism.

The other day I found the most lovely compost-related poem ever. Compost. Like decomposing plants and organic materials. I keep re-reading it because it's kind of inspirational.

I've been playing in the pit for a high school musical this week, because I always say yes when someone asks me to. And it's not as if I don't want to. I get paid, y'all. Also, I have this thing where I always totally fall in love with the kids. Even when they're not... they're not that good.... Neither am I, frankly. Or I haven't been lately. My upper register has been hopelessly swoopy because I'm tired and trying to play softly and don't give a damn about breath support.

Here's something new: after a few weeks of experimentation without any dire consequences, I have decided that I don't believe in deodorant. But this is me today. You may want to ask again in July.

I keep making mistakes at work. Skipping pages, ruining files, mistyping numbers. I even had to have a replacement flatbed scanner brought in to my office. Have written more emails of apology this week than I have in the first few months of this year combined. The worst are the times I get the corrective phone call before I catch myself and am caught off guard. Oh good morning to you, too, and yes, that was my fault. I sometimes tell the voice on the other end that I'm sorry, it was my mistake. I say, I'm going through a transitional phase here. Well, aren't I always?

I blame my muddledheadedness on the fact that I've gone straight from my bed to my job to rehearsals to bed all week and this means I've barely even had time to keep up with The Colbert Report. Also, haven't had like ANY time with my man.

Well, aside from yesterday... he was wearing a tux and I was wearing the smell of his skin on my arms and a coating of goosebumps and I was listening to the 1812 Overture from a pew. This is a good defense against the whirl that will be this weekend.

You know, this weekend. With the talks about chemo and talks about moving boxes and talks about how breakable our spirits really are, and all this speckled in between musical performances in a tiny town forty minutes away.