Letters to Holly

Wednesday, April 29

My Brain is Dumb.

I heard from the actor prospect yesterday morning and asked him to read the script before he agreed to anything. That surprised him, I think. I dropped off the script at the warehouse. I'll start basic blocking today. I'm tempted to use PowerPoint to map the movements, and it this were a full-scale production, I'd try it simply for novelty's sake.

I ran again and managed a 30-minute 5k.

I've had some weirdness over the past few days. Nothing physical, at least nothing beyond synaptic misfiring. Random Facebook networking led to someone I hadn't seen in years and years, and it threw me. I didn't expect that reaction, and it's taking its sweet time dissipating. It's holdover stuff from high-school -- notions I thought I've outgrown -- and this resurgence makes me want to remove my brain and throttle it. I'm embarrassed by it.

I worry I'm so distracted by this muck that I'm neglecting Your Sister. When I pulled her aside last night to say I want to be the best husband I can be, she grabbed my head, started me in the eye (the one looking straight ahead anyway), and said "get out of your head." My frustration did make for a strong run, though, so maybe I should hold onto it until after May's 5k race.

Picture of the Day
This would make a nifty scarecrow for the garden.

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