June 15, 2015

Cast as Finbar in The Weir. Now I’ll have to read it.

Disappointing Alexander’s House rehearsal. The leads are doing well, but the chorus lags. I thought that being away for six weeks would put me behind, but it didn’t at all. There is enough mud and lead in the group that our every triumph is an astonishment. Salad at Marco’s afterward. Maybe it’s age, but I grow impatient with small talk. Having to repeat anything puts me on the verge of tears, and since everybody’s deaf, the evening is a tribulation.

Still crying “Ow!” when I move my back a certain way. It’s always something.

I get enough sleep that I wake absurdly early, but go back to sleep then, knowing that the next hour or so will be filled with the most elaborate and amazing dreams.

Racquet Club dunning me for the pay stub which I have delivered to them now three times. My rage at this is almost unaccountable. 

Is the year truly half gone?

There are more roses than I can look at.