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Day twenty-five

November 25, 2016

Well, it seems I can write about Mike. Wish I could say that’s all there was to say. Wish I could say that was the worst of it. It isn’t and it wasn’t, but that’s all for now.

Time to fess up. I did not go to the gym yesterday. Sigh. There was of time. An entire day to myself between the dress rehearsal on Wednesday night and opening night tonight. I did have to move my pool game with my neighbour from Wednesday to Thursday, but I could have gone before that. But I didn’t. (The game of pool, however, was a lot of fun. And having fun is a good thing.)

The last time I went to my doctor and ended up with a diagnosis of depression, he gave me a booklet to read. I confess I haven’t looked at it recently, but there are two things I do remember the book advising. One was to set yourself reasonable goals. The other was to not beat yourself up if you fail to meet one of your goals. I think going from zero to five days a week at the gym was probably unrealistic as a goal. I pretty much proved that last week when I went three times. As for zero times this week… Well, let’s just say I am not going to beat myself up. Start again next week and aim for three. Fingers crossed.

After two months of rehearsals, it is Show Time! The completion of the great Bailes/Holmes trilogy, which began three years ago when I directed the world premiere of Will Shakespeare the Panto, a new script by Robin Bailes. Last year it was his panto Robin Hood and His Merry Men. And rounded off this weekend with

rorh

I love working with these guys. I really do. Most of the cast have been involved in all three shows. They are a great group. I hope they’ll all be involved in next year’s panto and that I will be working with them – just not as the director. I’ve committed to directing the spring full production – a nice, contained, four-cast, one-set comedy. Part of me wishes I hadn’t, but I’m pretty sure that’s simply because I am so bloody knackered at the moment. By the end of March I’ll be fine – especially if I’m riding high from getting the Prothero band back together. (Fingers crossed.)

Okay, that’s it. I know my minimum fifteen minutes are up and I’m just staring at the screen trying to figure out something to say. I can’t, because my mind is racing around with thoughts of all the things I need to get done today before I go to the hall.

The next couple of days are likely to be equally short. There are matinees both tomorrow and Sunday, which means no leisurely mornings writing. There will be something (because unlike the gym, this particular promise will be kept), but don’t expect much.

Normal service will be resumed next week.

 

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