This is a week (a week a week a week)

It’s one of those unwritten rules—similar to how bringing an umbrella with you keeps it from raining—that if you have Something Big happening, a million other things will have to happen at the same time, because it is not enough to deal with that ONE thing. Of course.

So: Our production of The Vagina Monologues opens tonight, which means Chickadee and I have been spending long hours at rehearsal, AND Otto has about a dozen extra things going at work, AND Monkey is under the weather AND every committee I am on for school needs something from me right now AND a great job opportunity fell in my lap (but from a Luddite organization which apparently needs a paper resume rather than just looking at my LinkedIn), AND it’s been raining so SOMEONE has been pooping on the floor rather than getting their paws wet (geez, Otto, get it together), AND AND AND AND.

And: I am tired. It’s gonna be a looooong charge through the weekend. (Hopefully a good one, but still.)

Last night was our final dress rehearsal, our first JUST KEEP GOING, THIS IS IT run, and when we do the show at UGA, we perform in the chapel, which is a lovely old building. There are TEENY wings for the chapel stage, and a small bathroom on only one side. If your assignment is to wait in the other wing and you have to pee? TOO BAD. But… last night my darling daughter decided to make a just-before-curtain bathroom run, and we’d just had a few words and I was worried she was mad at me, so I tapped on the door to try to talk to her and she told me to go away. “We’re about to START,” I said, finally, worried she was so pissed off she was going to miss her cue. In fact, she didn’t come out for her first cue, but then I had to go over to the other wing and just trust that she’d emerge in time for the next one. Time passed, and about twenty minutes later I got a text from her, asking where I was. Turns out, the very old door to the very old bathroom is having some issues, and she’d actually been trapped inside (without her phone). She hadn’t wanted to make a lot of noise because we were running the show, so she resorted to quiet tapping until another cast member noticed and was able to free her. She’d spent what I’m sure felt like a very long time in there convinced she was going to miss the whole show and maybe have to live in that crummy bathroom. So. Um. Everything is going to be perfect tonight, I’m sure, because the ridiculous awful thing has already happened! Hooray!!

In the meantime, Monkey and I are still figuring out what he needs when he’s sick, and you can read about that over at Alpha Mom, if you’re so inclined.

5 Responses to “This is a week (a week a week a week)”

  1. 1
    Karen February 4, 2016 at 11:28 am #

    Yes – when something “bad” happens at dress rehearsal, then the show will go on well!!!!

    Break a leg Mir!

  2. 2
    Karen February 4, 2016 at 11:44 am #

    Best of luck for a wonderfully successful uneventful show! And all that other stuff… but please, let Otto use the indoor plumbing, surely he’s house trained by NOW……

  3. 3
    meghann February 4, 2016 at 1:21 pm #

    Yes, theater gods say: bad dress rehearsal equals great show.

  4. 4
    Brenda February 4, 2016 at 2:49 pm #

    I love that Chickie is involved, too! And as awful as missing part of the show is, it’s kind of a hysterical story to tell afterwards. A friend of mine once wrote a one-act play about being stuck in the ladies’ room for our scriptwriting class in college.

  5. 5
    Daisy February 4, 2016 at 4:21 pm #

    I got locked into the bathroom at home one morning. The doorknob broke. Husband was out of town, son was sound asleep at the other end of the house and on second floor, and I was freshly showered and dressed and – stuck. I did what resourceful women have been doing for centuries. I found a hairpin, forced the lock open, and then duct taped it so my son wouldn’t lock himself in later while I was at work.

    Ah, bathrooms. They seem to spur the best stories.

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