(no subject)

I had something this afternoon that was too low-key to properly be called an anxiety attack, but in some ways, it was still near paralyzing. Just listing the amount of stuff I'm doing -- or not doing, in the case of college and scholarship apps -- was enough to make me unwilling to move, make decisions, do anything.

It passed, after I made a concrete decision to walk over to West rather than mope somewhere, and followed through, and hung out with cool people.

I got home and was thinking, "Hey, y'know, things aren't so bad now."

Which was when I reached into my pocket to grab the key to the rehearsal space for tonight and found it gone. It was in the pocket with my iPod -- it was, I remember putting it there -- and it's not in the house or the car. Which means that at some point, I probably pulled out my iPod and dropped the key and didn't notice.

Cue profanity.

I'll go in and I'll grovel and I'll offer to pay for a replacement, and it'll be fine because Janet's nice. Just. Damn. Real good start to being a "responsible adult".

(no subject)

So. Christmas Story readthrough. The director, David, is still working on casting, so pretty much all of the little boys there tonight read Ralphie at some point.

(I'm going to attempt to recreate this kid's accent when he was reading.)

Boy: *as Ralphie* Ah always know what tahm it is and Ah'm nevah lost, because mah legendary Official Red Rahduh 200-Shot Carbine Action Range Model Air Rifle has uh compass and this thing which tells time built right inta the stock.

adiva_calandia: *leans over to ghost_light, whispers* He sounds like Samuel L. Jackson.

ghost_light: *cracks up* Race you to blog that.

(no subject)

. . . Aw, crap, I still need an ankh and stompy boots. Hm. I will ask for money and go check the thrift store during my free periods, then.