Again trying to catch up with the plans and routines I set out in my quiet spaces, always forgetting that life is what happens when I'm off doing something else. I'm tired today. I've done well anyway, three hours of work for the business. I've manages to cross of a number of lines on my To-Do list. This is just another thing to be erased.

I painted and almost finished my newest watercolour yesterday. It's unsigned and I think I may do a slight touch up to the middle section. I feel that if it's signed, it's finished. I also feel that I took it off the plywood too soon. Ahh well. I have a new sheet stretched this morning. It should be dry by now. I think once I am done my shower and lotion routine I may sit down and start on the next picture.

It's going to be a broken series. One for each person in my life that I think would appreciate it. It's not high art, but it's mine and colourful. The next one will be for my mom, with her totem in the middle. I'm not sure of the colour matches, but we'll see what I come up with.

I ended up going out last night with R to see As You Like It at UWaterloo. It was an alumni shindig, and his date backed out on him. So I got the invite and I'm glad I went. I miss theatre sometimes. I miss the desperation and anxiety of the work coming up on a show, and then the wonder of the perfect night. The perfect show. It's been almost 10 years now since I worked on anything to do with a Theatre.

I've debated and toyed with volunteering at one of the local theatres. I know that if I was to attempt a resurrection of a career, my dream, I would have to start at the bottom and climb my way back up. But I've become aware of my mortality. There's no way I'd clamber up a cherry picker 50' in the air to hang a light or run cable. I'd see my certain death from falling every second. And I don't have the experience or the connections to work as anything but grunt labour.

It's funny the directions life goes. I had my life planned, each step along the way, and then life got in the way. Ten years ago I was dragging myself each day into High School, so I could graduate, so I wouldn't become a statistic. "Kicked out, dropped out, lost out." I didn't want that to be me, so I made damn sure it wasn't.

I talk about my internal life all the time now here. I guess the talk I had with my sister about how I shouldn't write about anything that involves the people around me. That it was an invasion of privacy. I guess that's true. My subconscious certainly thinks so. I only write about the things and thoughts I have about my own tiny life.

I don't talk about how excited I am that my sister is looking at going to university for her social work degree. It's a long-term plan, but it's so exciting. She's finally had enough with being taken for granted at work.

And I wandered off to deal with the fucking morons at ILC, so that's it for my 30 minutes. Heh.