Headache

Headache. Oh, what a headache I have. I am bored and sleepy and miss Trey and want a glass of wine. I have the kind of headache located right where the Botox would go [I wonder if Nicole Kidman is free from headache now?] a poisoned and throbbing almond where a third eye should be.

Two funny things about me: 1) I am studying to take the Notary Public licensing exam.

2) Also, as a favor to a dear and aunt-like friend, I have been cast in a play about JESUS that is being put on in a CHURCH.

Not just a play -- A MUSICAL! I went to the first rehearsal this week and it was absurd and relaxing: since I have no egoic investment in this project and am doing it as a hired gun out of love, I enjoyed learning choreography and singing songs. But how sad and silly – looking at all the expensive stained glass, the marble baptismal font – all this time and energy and strain about a fiction. About nothing, nothing at all. I sent Trey a text message during a break:

I am in “Waiting for Guffman with Jesus”

The girl is trying to suss out my connection with the director; I explain. “Oh. So, you’re Catholic?” I tell her that I was raised Episcopalian and leave it at that. Keep a low profile.