Is it really Wednesday? Time does fly, especially when you've set an I've Got Health Insurance, Perhaps I Should See Some Doctors month. Really, taking an hour here and there to have all of your blood drawn and replaced with Oregon Trail-type preventative vaccinations...well, it certainly does make the work week go faster.
This month has brought two new doctors (and subsequent pokey needles), and three cavities- with six shots of novocaine...I was brave, ask anyone- with at least three more appointments on the horizon before 2009! We've got it covered from new dental x-rays all the way down to a podiatry appointment. I even cut my hair.
Is anything wrong, you may ask? NOT YET. But we're sure to find it if it happens!
Between all of these weekly appointments I like to spend fifty hours at a place called "work." (Two little girls are currently playing nurse with their dolls and one just informed me that her baby is "really high." I think she means in temperature.)
And in the hours between "work" and Preventative Medicine- I try to write. And I'll tell you this much...one of the real dangers in telling people that you're a writer is: they expect you to actually do so. This contrasts sharply with the life of lazy lesiure I imagine for myself. Oh well.
When I DO get to write, it seems to be going okay. The first meeting with Local 75 was awesomely wonderful- Chris and Aaron are superb people, not to mention really talented writers, and the "critiquing" of my play seemed like anything but. Imagine that. Workshopping a play without personal agendas or general ignorance of the play? Or the playwright? Or humor? This may just be my personal writing heaven.
We spent a good deal of time discussing what I find funny and that led to an interesting question: Is my comedic style more 'Clue' or 'Deathtrap?' I still don't know, because initially they said 'Mousetrap' and my mind wandered off in the direction of 'Ten Little Indians.' Or, as I like to call it, 'And Then There Were None.' Specifically because I had a horrifically long and horrifically horrific dream last week where I was in a real version of that play. Suffice to say, I knew how it would end. And four hours later it did.
And speaking of not getting amazing sleep, I haven't been. Even my characters aren't sleeping. I've been editing a series of scenes where my main gal keeps ending up in the living room at 3am to see if a new episode of 'Dragnet' is on. (Relatively new, that is.) And yes, this is thinly veiled scene showcasing my desire for 'Law & Order' to be on AT ALL TIMES. (Thanks, Peej.)
Finally, a snippet pertaining to sleep, fantastic dialogue AND P.J.? Okay! The other night (early morning, whatever) when P.J. was drifting off to sleep and vehemently denying any such thing, he began "sleep talking." As he does. Frequently. (He'll deny this as well.) His sleep talking occurs in that dreamlike state of not quite being asleep and still pretending to carry on a conversation. I don't remember what we had been talking about- quite possibly making plans for not sleeping the following night- when all of a sudden he stated quite clearly, "That Ender [our cat] is an old-fashioned kind of dude. He realizes the importance of credit."
I was shocked. Ender had been listening all these years?
I was charmed; somehow we've managed to instill good values in our cat.
And I was thoroughly reminded- why sleep and miss all the good dialogue?