
I’m sitting here nursing a sore shoulder on the right. Last week, suddenly, my subscapularis went to spasm for no particular reason and has continued to give me trouble ever since. I’m doing all my usual tricks but I assume it’s going to resolve itself when it feels like it on its time, rather than on mine. We live in such an over scheduled, over committed world that the least little thing throws a monkey wrench into plans with cascading effects. I haven’t had to modify much of anything yet, but one never knows, does one.
I am wondering if this is my body’s way of saying the stress level is a bit too high (registering now roughly 14 out of 10 on my patented stress-o-meter). It wasn’t too bad with the work stuff and the theatrical stuff, but then I had to throw moving into the mix and between the racing around collecting things up for the mortgage people, dealing with all of the little real estate things, looking around the house and recognizing that I have to either pack or purge everything in it over the next six or seven weeks, and it just becomes a bit overwhelming. I haven’t really started the P and P thing yet. I have to get into the new condo with a tape measure and make a floor plan and start figuring out what’s going to fit before I do anything else. I’ve also got performances of Mozart’s Requiem in two weeks and Massenet’s Cendrillon in four. I have bowed out of the play I was going to do in March/April as something absolutely had to give in order for me to maintain sanity.
The moving decision feels right and I know a few months from now, when I am settled and happily opening boxes and asking myself ‘Why do I own this crap?’, everything will be fine. It’s just the actual physical move that’s got me in a tizzy. I did it four years ago and survived so I’ll survive this one to. I have to keep reminding myself of one of my favorite Sondheim lyrics. (There’s a Sondheim quote for everything): “I chose and my world was shaken; so what? The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not. You have to move on.”
I’ve been very quiet this weekend. Every time I sat down, I nodded off so I took that as a sign that I needed some down time. I wasn’t completely a sloth. I did complete all I need to do for my income taxes and will have that in to the accountant on Wednesday. I also managed to watch a film and will shortly get back to MNM columns. I haven’t written one in over a month. Every time I try to do so, it just won’t flow. I think it’s because I set her up to get involved in a production of Cabaret. Her world usually parallels mine in some way. I just wasn’t expecting my experience with the show to be as profound as it was and I think my emotional reaction to this production is what’s blocking moving forward with her story. I figure I either have to reverse courses to something else quickly or I have to figure out how to channel that emotional energy in some different way.
We’re in the process of planning my mother’s memorial service in Seattle, the weekend of April 25th (which is, of course, in the middle of moving time for me – a few days away from that maelstrom is probably a good thing). Any of you in the PNW who might like to attend, send me a PM and I’ll make sure you get further details as they become available. Last I heard, Sunday afternoon was the most likely time but various things are still up in the air such as venue availability. I’ve been asked to write and deliver the family piece of the eulogy. I haven’t started it yet, but I’m thinking about how to strike the tone that pays tribute to her as an individual with a strong personality and a wicked and very British sense of humor. It was she who introduced me to such things as Monty Python.
All sorts of people have reached out to say they will help with sorting and packing and moving which is incredibly kind. I will have a local moving company do most of the packing and carting of things to the new digs. The sorting may require some help. I have donated all the contents of the wig studio to Red Mountain Theater Company. If they will come in the next few weeks and pack that all up and take it away, that will free up a place for me to start hauling things that I won’t take with me but still have useful life. I figure I let me theater friends paw through it and carry away what they want and then whatever’s left can go to Goodwill or Lovelady. Better call RMTC this week and make those arrangements.
I wonder what Tommy thinks of me selling his house? I told his family this last week. They didn’t think much one way or the other. Tommy is one of the reasons I want to move. It was bought for Tommy based on his wants and needs and everything about it has something to do with a past that’s cherished in memory, but no longer exists in a practical present. I think he would approve. Tommy was always looking forward to the next project, the next phase of life, the future. He had next to no sentimentality and rarely looked back. He always found that unimportant.