Wednesday, May 11, 2005
i am the greatest.
i have a slot in a performance series next week to do some bits of a one-woman show i've been purportedly writing for six months or so. in reality, i worked for six weeks barfing up material while taking a class, got the slot, and then ignored the deadline. actually, i had the original performance date pushed back because i thought we were moving house in april, only to realize that we were actually moving in may, the week before my rescheduled go-date (which is a day after the monkey leaves town).
i'm bummed, and sort of disgusted with myself. i don't get a lot of stage time out here, and i've goofed this opportunity to be a very small rock star. i've reluctantly scaled down my expectations and started to memorize the text i've got, and it's going to be fine, but it could have been better. it could have been definitely very good, and maybe it will only be, like, okay.
and really, the worst part is that realizing my mistake doesn't make me want to buckle down and get it done. i want the Redemption Fairy to sprinkle some stuff on me that resolves the bad feeling so that i can go have a cookie. i am twelve.
i'm bummed, and sort of disgusted with myself. i don't get a lot of stage time out here, and i've goofed this opportunity to be a very small rock star. i've reluctantly scaled down my expectations and started to memorize the text i've got, and it's going to be fine, but it could have been better. it could have been definitely very good, and maybe it will only be, like, okay.
and really, the worst part is that realizing my mistake doesn't make me want to buckle down and get it done. i want the Redemption Fairy to sprinkle some stuff on me that resolves the bad feeling so that i can go have a cookie. i am twelve.
