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There’s something about Sunday night
that really makes you want to kill yourself
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Monday, January 10, 2005

My busy husband

Tim’s in Tech right now—the week before a show opens, when the rehearsals are about running the show to get all the technical stuff coordinated: lights, sound, props, scene changes, etc. They call it 10 of 12s, which I think means their days consist of working ten out of twelve hours. So add that schedule to a really physical show where he is in most scenes, dancing and running around, and he’s wrecked most of the time I see him.

I miss him. I like having the house to myself ordinarily, but since his usual schedule gives me free reign of the place until ten o’clock each night, working until eleven means I’m in bed when he gets home, and we don’t get to chat before bed because he’s too wiped out to even function.

And I’ve been doing the dishes (his usual job) to lighten his load, and I’ll do whatever else I can to make things easier for him, but damn. I hate doing the dishes.

I can’t wait until the show opens, and he gets home at ten again. It’s hard to connect when things are so busy.

Plus, I miss my weekly backrub.

But at any rate, today is his day off, and he just called to tell me he’s reorganized the dining room so we can combat the cat pee–carpet problem. He concocted a “rub” of oregano (??) and catnip, and worked it into the carpet. He let it sit for awhile, then vacuumed it up. He said the next time Fergus went sniffing around in that spot, instead of crouching suspiciously over it, he laid down and sprawled out with a blissful expression on his face. Tim’s a genius. And I like it when I have a happy Fergus.


Blogger Lauren said...

A weekly backrub sounds divine.

5:45 PM  
Blogger joolz said...

Man, I miss and don't miss Tech Week. Did you know my university major was theatre?

10:28 PM  
Blogger Leanne said...

I was thinking the same thing, Joolzie. I LOVED Tech Week. Our Tech Week always ended on Super Sunday, where we would go in at 6:30am and stay until we were done. This meant the principals were there until about 10pm.

Pure hell, but such a rush.

3:35 AM  
Blogger angiepants said...

Aww, I know what you mean, LE. It sucks not having time with the Mr. And Duane is the dishman, too, so when he's not around...I gag at the sight of the piled-up sink.

8:28 PM  

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