Waiting To Wake Up

A lot on my plate this week has made the simple act of turning my computer on all but impossible. For those of you who read regularly, or chance a glance every so often, my sincerest apologies for having, for lack of a better word that could actually describe my current situation, a life.

I really have no excuse but to say that I've been busy.

Busy at work. Busy at church. Busy at the gym. And then finally back to home and hearth where my bed has become my best friend and the TV is only on long enough to hear the morning news.

Hell, even Brenda has felt the absence. Tonight was the first night in more nights than I can count that we've actually managed to have a conversation that didn't happen in an email format.

It's been rough. Just rough all the way around trying to manage all this extra I've brought in.

Last night was the opening night for our play and I have to say, I was a little nervous about the whole affair, but it did seem to go off well regardless of, and let's be honest here, the music situation which did not see any improvements made at all. Still one could say that the final product as a whole was a satisfying production of faith and fellowship.

The fact that I remembered all my lines, faked a sobbing scene (as convincingly as I could manage without feeling like a total and complete ass) and sang in public should actually be more than enough to say, "Job well done."

Except it's not done. Not exactly. We've two more shows to do before I can forget every word I've done my best to commit to memory, along with my arguments to the tech guys why it's not necessary to sob for thirty seconds just because the script calls for it. Poetic license, I said, is about what feels right and honestly, I'd be good with ten seconds if they would go with it.

As for the gym, that is going very well. Although trying to convince my body that it's okay to move again after five miles is no easy sell. In fact, if my body had anything to say about any of this, it would probably disown me in a New York minute.

There are certain things however that must be done regardless of the pain, discomfort, or the amount of whining that goes with it. And getting my ass to the gym is just one of these things...

And speaking of my ass, I do have to say, it's looking mighty fine.