Stuck

I'm entering the last month of the year feeling too busy and at the same time, stuck. It's easy to just let big scary projects float--like buying a house and a new car--while I pursue my adventures and have fun playing with my friends. My mom used to say I was always afraid I was going to miss something. I don't think she meant it as a compliment, but it's true, I suppose. I want the full experience, all of it.

And yet there's this stuck feeling .... maybe it's just winter coming on, the pull of the dark. I don't have time to stop; I don't want to slow down, but sometimes I'm dragged into resting for a bit.

It's one of those nights when I wish I had a massage therapist named Sven on retainer--one who makes house calls--or a hot tub on my back porch or even better, both. I'm tired and most of my muscles hurt for some reason.

Diplomat thinks the enigmatic bartender from last night's after-rehearsal adventure poisoned us, but I can't imagine he would. Although when I was paying my tab, he did pour a couple of different shots of something for himself, me, Diplomat, and an Ethiopian with perfect English. One tasted like vile rot-gut and the other was sweet like nectar. Not sure what was in either drink, but the effect was .... unusual. Maybe I just need to stop flirting with bartenders ... .... Nah. Not going to happen.

Tomorrow we start tech week for Scrooge, or hell week as it's also called, and Friday we open for a two-weekend run. It's going to be intense. And then when it's over, Christmas will be on top of us, and then shortly after that, winter quarter starts.

I don't know how I can feel stuck when so much is going on, but I do. I just wish I was stuck on Sven's massage table with a big vat of bubbling water waiting nearby for me to fall asleep in it.

This is what I'm listening to tonight, Waking Life by Schuyler Fisk. I'm going to learn it once I've got some free music time.