Nada once more

      I don't know what happened to me this weekend, but I did nothing. No, really. A little laundry and a lot of watching TV, reading books, napping and lounging around. I'm amazed as I look back. Crystal thinks my back got hurt because my body needed to take a break. Maybe she's right. But now I need my back to be better.
      Tomorrow night we will have our first read-through of the play with the cast. Tuesday night, we will block act 1. Wednesday night, act 2. After that, we will go into doing scenes, and the whole cast won't have to be there every night. That's how it will go and how I will spend my time until the production is over.
      Boring, isn't it? To read the same thing over and over. I really need to have an adventure or two to share with you. Like the time I was involved in a police chase accidently. But I've already told that story, and while it's exciting, it doesn't have much of an ending.
      I could share my streaking story, but I think I will have to let that one be found in my journal after I am dead and gone. (Which is better than being dead and here. Just ask any ghost.)
      I could talk about writing some more, but frankly, I don't find talking about writing as interesting as writing itself. I'm a member of several writing groups, and all of them have members who like to talk about writing endlessly. I often wonder if they ever actually get any writing done. Writers write, talkers talk, walkers walk, runners run, swimmers swim, bees be ... and so. "Fish got to swim, birds got to fly, Democrats got to steal, Republicans got to lie ..." or so the song -- slight paraphrased -- goes.
      Time for bed again. I bet you're feeling sleepy just from reading this, aren't you? Hey, maybe I could sell my blog as sleep aid. Something to look into. Night!