March 1, 2015

 Pearly first of March.

 Rehearsal and writing, writing and rehearsal. If the weather allows, “school” will get back into the mix. Not embarrassing myself at rehearsals. Have to be told where the envelope is so I can push it.

Revised The Beautiful Johanna 
Finally cooked the pasta I brought with me from 62. It was a symbol. Now it is breakfast, lunch, supper. Who knows? Breakfast tomorrow?

Rose an hour after retiring to vomit. All well after that. Lay abed with Circe dreaming vivid dreams.

Went to the web pages of the other Great Plains playwrights. I’m the only one WITHOUT a web page. Even that truth does not arouse me to try to make one. They all seem pretty badass, except that my record of actual productions is way ahead.