Too Busy to Call Your Dad? You're Too Busy to Blog

Last month I read 3 books. Sound like a lot? Not compared to the 21 I read in February. Or the 27 I read in January. Yeah, I read a lot. Or, I used to. This month I'm hoping to finish Girlbomb: A Halfway Homeless Memoir, by the awe-inspiring Janice over at Girlbomb, but so far I haven't had time to read more than 5 pages.

I haven't learned my lines yet. That is so not like me. I'm so competitive that I just have have have to be the first one off book. Oh, and? It's a point of pride for me to know my lines verbatim. Ha! Who has time to learn lines? I'm lucky to make it to rehearsal. And now they want us to spend time--our own time, mind you, not rehearsal time--doing physical and vocal warm-ups? Every freakin' day? Who has time for that crah--uh, helpful stuff?

And I just--just, like, while I was typing the last paragraph--got an e-mail from an editor at Meredith. He's got the bluelines ready. So I can come in anytime I like, this afternoon or tomorrow, to proofread. Anytime I like. Anytime I like? Yesterday I went in to do some proofing for this same editor (they got a million of 'em). Thought I'd be there an hour, hour and a half, tops. He had a couple "extra" things for me to do. No biggie. But while I was proofing, another editor walked by and said, "Oh, are you proofing today? Would you have time to do a job for me? It might take a couple hours..."

What did I do? I said yes. Even though I had a ton to do. I was there four hours. I missed lunch. Traffic was terrible on the way home. I got home hungry, cranky and stressed. But, good sister that I am, I called my little brother to wish him a happy birthday. While I was fixing lunch. Fortunately for both of us, a customer dropped by his shop about the time my grilled cheese sandwich (hot, melted Velveeta cheese--mmm!) was ready. So I called him back later. While I emptied the dishwasher. I did not call my dad yesterday. I have, however, tried him twice today. No answer.

And I just got (yes, wait for it) another e-mail from the Meredith editor, this time wanting to know about weekend availability. Am I free this weekend? Well, let's see...I'm going to the prison Saturday morning. And then to rehearsal Saturday afternoon. And then I really should spend time with JT. Sunday I have another rehearsal. But...you know I'm going to say yes, don't you? I can't afford to turn down paying work, not with JT's ambiguous job situation. I still believe we'll be fine, but we don't know that yet. In addition to everything else, we're going to have The Money Talk tomorrow night. Ick. Necessary, but still? Ick.

I guess I need to go call this guy. And then get back to my regularly-scheduled activities. Oh, and? Bubba just sat on my arm, and I'm not entirely positive that he left everything that belongs in the litterbox in the litterbox, if you know what I mean. So I might also need to change.