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Tag Archives: time

Not a Timely Post

I have wussed out on Wednesday to this extent before, but let’s not talk about that.  I guess all my posts this week are going to be I Missed Posting on the Day, So Here’s a Late Post.  Can I break the pattern?  Time will tell.  Time is certainly a blabbermouth.  That is a joke I like to make.  My sister Diane says, “Time is relative.  Not our relative. But I digress.

At first I made those jokes in parentheses, but then I thought of the headline and brought them out into the main text. I wonder if the words feel better out in the open or safer in the parentheses?  Yes, I anthropomorphize almost anything.  But with words, I am not the first. I distinctly remember in Alice in Wonderland (which I read more than once as a child, although I refused to watch the movie in later years) the Caterpillar misusing a word and saying, “When I used a word, it means when I pay it to mean!”  That may not be the exact quote, but he goes on to speak fondly about how they all eagerly await their wages on payday.

Well, now I’m talking about time AND Alice in Wonderland (which I ought to read again; perhaps I could find the annotated version), the the headline is less apt.  Then again, I’m posting Wuss-out Wednesday at 4:30 on Non-Sequitur Thursday morning.  I say it’ll do.  Will I break the late post curse?  I hope you’ll stay tuned to find out.



I Think I’m Rubbed Out

Nobody thought I would not have a Wrist to Forehead Sunday today, least of all me.  I’m TIRED!  We had a wonderful show last night.  The audience loved us!  And we loved the audience!

I am speaking, of course, of Rubbed Out at Ruby’s, the interactive murder mystery presented by LiFT Theatre Company at the Overlook Mansion in Little Falls.  They served hors d’oeuvres catered by That Little Place on Main, and they were, you should pardon the expression, to die for.  Of course, I did not eat a lot.  I was busy acting.

Now I must gear up for a bear of a week, that is, production week for Steel Magolias at Ilion Little Theatre.  Opening night is March 3.  Yikes!  I don’t think I even have all my costumes together, but I am working on it.   Additionally, I must finish writing, cast and begin rehearsals for not one but two murder mystery dinner theatres.  If anybody says, “Well, you’d better get writing,” I’ll scream.

In the meantime, it is Oscar night, traditionally a big night in our humble household.  My dear husband, Steven, has watched them every year since 1965.  In previous years we have had better luck in catching more of the nominated pictures.  Additionally, in previous years I have not been in the habit of going to bed as early as a much older woman or a little kid.  I do not apologize for my nocturnal habits but merely note them.

Well, one can’t do everything after all.  I write, I participate in community theatre, I work full time, and I get what sleep I can.  Additionally, I intend to start running again.  I do not have time to go to movies that tend not to play around here in the first place.  Clean my house?  Who brought that up?  And what are you implying?

I say never mind all that.  Sunday is traditionally a day Steven and I spend time together.  I am going to hit Publish and get back to him.  As a closing note, here is the final cast picture of the marvelous actors of Rubbed Out at Ruby’s.  Happy Sunday, everyone.


What a crew!

My Own Dress Rehearsal

While I was working today, a song came to me.  It is to the tune of “The Volga Boatman.”

It’s just Tuesday (Uh!)

It’s just Tuesday (Uh!)

Time is dragging, worries nagging,

Happy Tuesday.

The fact is, I was quite anxious to get through my work day and get to Second Dress Rehearsal for Leading Ladies tonight.  First Dress went very well, and a number of nagging little details are now taken care of and off my mind.  Not ALL the nagging details, mind you.  Good heavens, I’m not a miracle-worker, I’m just a community theatre director with a full-time job and a silly blog.

I was heartened by the fact that although time was passing slowly, it was passing.  And you can tell me all you want that there are always sixty seconds per minute, sixty minutes per hour; many of us are convinced that some of them have more.

Work day finally over, I returned home to disaster, self-induced as most of mine are.  I foolishly decided to try on the little purple dress I had hoped to wear opening night to give my curtain speech (YES, and go out for drinks after the show, do you have a problem with that?).  The thing is, I have been getting so hungry lately. I snack on fruits and vegetables, lunch on salad, and try to be sensible for breakfast and dinner.  This is not natural behavior.  And the fact is, you have to do it EVERY DAY or it is not very effective.

So here we come to the ugly truth about me, and what an apt expression that is!

I really should have known better.  I purchased the dress five years ago then stupidly gained weight.  I have lost some of what I gained, but you never shrink back to the same shape.  Full disclosure:  I haven’t lost all the weight, either.

Part of me says I should now be happy it is only Tuesday.  I still have Wednesday, Thursday and part of Friday to lose more weight!  Most of me knows, however, that this is a crock of shit.  I’d best give away that little purple dress to some skinny chick that will appreciate it and go shopping for some plump middle-aged lady garments.

It is really no great matter, after all.  I stand on the stage for a very few minutes for my curtain speech and for the 50/50 raffle after intermission.  I am certain I can find a frock suited to my current shape.  In the meantime, I have written a whole silly blog post on my wardrobe and waistline ills and given very little update on the play.  Let’s just call it a Bad Attituesday and drive on.  After all, I have a rehearsal to get to.


It’s Just a Jump to the Left…

Well, I am in a hell of a time warp.  I often am on short weeks (I have Friday off). Monday, of course, was Monday.  Then for some reason I thought Tuesday was still Monday.  I was rather pleased to realize it was Tuesday.  However, Tuesday evening I went ahead and wrote my blog post thinking it was Wednesday.  I even put it under the category Wuss-out Wednesday.  What was that all about?

Clearly, days have ceased to have a 24-hour definition for me.  I expected Monday to last indefinitely while Tuesday was over well ahead of time.  Can I offer an mitigating circumstances in my defense?  I fear not.

I suppose one might say, “Oh, it’s the holiday,” and drive on.  Then another might say, “If you’re in that much of a time warp, you’d better not drive.  What would 55 miles an hour look like when you don’t even know how long an hour is?”  Good point.  Still another might begin singing and dancing “The Time Warp” from Rocky Horror Picture Show.

That was what I wrote while on a break at work today.  When I returned to work, my time warp took the form of minutes and hours passing vvveeerrryyyy vvvveeeeerrrryyyy  sssssllllllooooooowwwwlllllllyyyyyy…..  However, since this is a common phenomenon at work two days before a three day weekend, I was not more than usually perturbed by it.

I got home to discover that at least one reader had indeed caught me getting my days mixed up.  How mortifying.  And how not surprising.  If only yesterday had been Non-Sequitur Thursday, everything would have been just fine. What can I do?  I think I’ll take option number one:  say, “Oh, it’s the holiday,” and drive on.  Happy It Really Is Wednesday This Time, everyone.


Time Warp Tuesday

Thanksgiving week has been weird since I’ve been working at the factory.  We have the long weekend that many Monday through Friday workers enjoy, a luxury I have not had in years.  Well, I’ve had it for over four years now and I’m still not used to it.

Monday was definitely Monday, but it was also like Wednesday, because there were only two more days of work.  Today was in fact Tuesday, and it felt like that since it was the day after Monday, BUT it was also Wednesday, because it was the middle of the week, and it was also Thursday, because tomorrow is the last work day. Tomorrow, in addition to being Wednesday, for obvious reasons, is also Friday AND it is also Thursday, because we get paid, and Thursday is payday.  I’m sure you can understand my confusion.

I have no doubt gone over all this in previous years.  I’m hoping anybody who remembers does not mind reading it again.  You see, I must come back to the fact that it is Tuesday, because it is TIRED TUESDAY!

I actually did write something today. I began what I hoped was a rather amusing account of a Hammer Studios movie we watched on Sunday.  It’s running a little long, though, and I’d like to work on it some more.  I thought, “No problem.  I’m going running after work. I’ll write about that.”  Guess what I didn’t do after work today.

And I just remembered, I put in laundry!  I’ve got to get it in the drier!  Be right back!

. . .

That was fun.  Now I come back to the computer to realize I was done after all.  To go back and edit or leave as is?  I pick as is.  Is that the right decision?  You be the judge.  I’ll try for a better blog post tomorrow, but it will be Wuss-out Wednesday. Or will it be Lame Post Friday?  The suspense!


Making Time on Monday

Sorry, folks, it’s Wrist to Forehead Monday.  Maybe Tired Monday, although that doesn’t really have a ring to it.  I’m too tired for either Mental Meanderings or Middle-aged Musings.  I have no reason to feel so tired, but there it is.

I think one thing that is making me tired is that I am not writing, and I am damn tired of not being able to write.  All I have written today is less than a page on a letter to a friend.  And I was not particularly witty or interesting on that.  I had some great ideas on how to progress on my novel on Friday but have had no chance so far to implement them.  Oh, I know, real writers make time.

OK, hold it right there. Nobody can MAKE time.  We all have 24 hours in a day.  All the time management in the world will not make it 25 or even 24 hours and 6 minutes.

However, one can TAKE time.  The time you were using to do X can instead be used to do Y.  No, I’m not going to list all the crap I’ve been doing instead of writing, but, yes, it does involve cable television.  I’m fond of saying “don’t judge,” but in this case I’ll say go ahead and judge me, because I have not taken the time to write.

The nice thing about Monday, though, is that is the beginning of the week. I have the whole rest of the week to change my evil ways and write more.  Will I succeed?  You’ll read about it here if I do.  Happy Monday, everyone.


Friday Night Lame

So I have NOT written my blog post yet at 6:16 on this Lame Post Friday evening.

6:16 by the clock on my stove. I am perched on a stool, watching sausage, pepper and onion cook in a cast iron frying pan. I dare not leave the room. I must be here to stir at need.

Steven is due home in a short time. At least, I’m sure it will be longer than I want it to be. Retail employees sometimes find difficulties in leaving on time. No matter, it seems dinner will not be ready precisely as planned.

It is fortunate that I only require a lame post of myself today. I tried, tried, tried to write something at work. Nothing doing. Blame it on the season? Cop to it as an occupational hazard? Demand credit for At Least Trying? In any case, I crave your indulgence (isn’t that an elegant phrase? I rather enjoyed it).

As usual, I hope for at least one Mohawk Valley adventure this weekend. Or I may sit on my butt watching Christmas movies and crocheting frantically. Whatever happens, I will report back. Happy Friday, everybody.

Full disclosure: As I typed in that it was 6:16 and I was perched on a stool, stirring, it was in fact, closer to 6:40 and I was slouched in an office chair, typing. I knew that would happen. It just felt weird. Me and my strange obsession with accuracy.

Timing Is Everything

This is unusual. I just sat here for

Oh dear. I was about to write “at least five minutes,” when I looked at my watch and knew that it had only been three minutes. “Almost five minutes”? Lie and say that it was five minutes? We call that literary license in this business. Sometimes we call it fiction.

At any rate, I was paralyzed. Then I had to laugh at myself for being paralyzed. And naturally I started to write about it. Well, it got the pen moving at any rate.

Perhaps for the rest of the post I could ponder my obsession with time. I may have mentioned it before, in which case, sorry for repeating myself. A roommate in the army noticed my obsession. She pointed out that I knew it took seven minutes to walk to the chow hall. A “normal” person, I suppose, would say “five” or “ten” or even “five-ten.”

I’m sorry to be didactic (not real sorry, because, you know, go with your strengths), but five minutes and ten minutes are two different lengths of time. These things are important when one dare not be as much as .1 (yes, I said point one) seconds late for formation. And they are important for time-obsessed neurotics like me.

A junior high health teacher (or was it high school?) (was it even Health?) (what is with this accuracy obsession?) said we all have our little neuroses. Sometimes we call it a quirk or a Thing or a pet peeve (no, I am not looking in a thesaurus as I write this).

My main Thing right now (ooh, I just flashed on Thing One and Thing Two from The Cat in the Hat) is that I must publish a blog post every day, no matter how foolish. This has been today’s. I hope you enjoyed it.

Could Be the Lamest Post Yet

So I started writing at least three Friday Lame Posts at work today (while on a break OF COURSE). I don’t like any of them. And I have a very short time in which to come up with something else. OH NO!

No, it isn’t Wrist to Forehead Friday. For one thing, I don’t have time to make dramatic poses.

To be honest: as soon as I typed that sentence, I sat here staring at the screen, trying to think of something else to say. I had plenty of time to put my wrist onto my forehead. I was just too lazy.

Ah, that leads us into some half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday (my meager brain hasn’t failed me yet!): A truism states that we all have time for the things that are truly important to us. Is this a true truism? Discuss.

I think that actually we don’t any of us have the time we’d like to have for all the things we’d like to do. However, most of us have more time than we will admit; we just take it up doing other things. This is hardly an earth shattering observation (and since the earth has never, in fact, shattered, I would submit that nobody has yet made an observation that can truly be described as such) (so now I feel better about that).

Where was I?

Ah yes, babbling on in hopes my word count will go high enough that I can call it a post. Hmmm… Over 200. That’s respectable.

Before I sign off, I will leave my readers with one thought. I thought all day about how it is sometimes difficult to write a post when Mohawk Valley Girl strives to adhere to the rule: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

We’ll see who gets worried about that one.

Postscript: As personal acquaintances know, in real life I don’t always follow that rule. I’m more akin to Dorothy Parker when she purportedly said, “If you can’t say anything nice, sit right here next to me.”