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| 85 Weeks |
It takes years of preparation, careful planning, and intense collaboration to pull off a theatrical event. Hundreds of souls arrange to share a single, unique moment in time. I consider it an honor to be any part of it. I treasure every role--it's kind of an enormous, religious thing. And yet a few degrees of the body temperature of a 1-year old can ripple through it all...
What's that saying? The one about God enjoying himself at our expense? "If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans." Nice. Thanks All Mighty evil vice principal of John Hughes Junior High.
So I didn't make it to the city to see my play. The one that I was so very excited about I thought about the state of my fingernails for the first time in years. (Writing scripts is currently in such direct clash with my working mom lifestyle, I now have reverse 'actor's nightmare' dreams. I sit in the audience and watch the lobotomized and pantsless attempt to perform my play as their mothers yell at them from seats behind me. At least I'm hiding in the dark as I squirm.) I was counting the days to be a part of this event, truly, and, duh, capital-m-Mommy, it never occurred to me that Ren might need a little extra something from me regardless of my itinerary. That morning, when I realized I couldn't participate, I thought my heart would be crushed by making that call. Stay or go? Stay. Always stay. I was disappointed, but then I realized my fortune. My schedule had been cleared to go to the City and participate in my second favorite thing. Instead, I got to do my first. I watched him dream; saw a little smile.
"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."
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