Spent a half hour or so thoroughly cleaning the kitchen--that's all the time I needed. I took everything off the counters, wiped them down, and replaced fewer items. Took apart and scoured the stove top, used cleanser on the sinks, and washed down the mixer. Swept and mopped the minuscule floor and the place shone.
I glanced out the window and saw a moving van taking things into a nearby apartment. Went out and asked if the movers might be able to use the huge box of packing materials--bubble wrap, "peanuts," something like peanuts, but made of cardboard triangles, and a humongous sheet of heavy paper that had wrapped the T.V. Guy said yes, they came and got it and yay! it's something less I have to think about. Yes, I could have (laboriously) dragged it out to the trash place, but I really hate to waste things. This was perfectly good and why not give it to people who can use it?
I started going through the enormous amount of paperwork I have both in the study and the dining alcove. I knew there were documents I didn't need to keep and some I did and what a chore to examine and sort them. I didn't finish, but I got a fair amount done.
Hopped in the shower and changed for the Mad Gravity show, scheduled for 4:00. In truth, I wasn't terribly enthusiastic about attending, but I had told Mary I'd meet her (and the van from The Palms) there and when it was over, I was so glad I had.
The Flying H. Theatre Group's venue is simply a store front a few miles from where I live. I got there early, and started chatting with some of those involved. Told them I was a member of the Little Egg Theatre Company and had been in a number of productions, as well as had several of my plays produced. Well, that did it. Just as we reacted to fellow thespians/playwrights/stagehands from out of town in other companies, they couldn't have been warmer or more welcoming.
And the setup! Two tiers of chairs faced the set--actually, were part of the set, because the audience was part of the play. Ordinarily, "the fourth wall" is ignored--as a rule, performers must never acknowledge the audience--but this show was so innovative, members of the cast often spoke to the audience directly. During intermission, we were sold silly string (1$) and were told to spray it at the cast as they cavorted about the stage It's impossible to describe the hilarity that ensued, but here's a hint: the main male character, a man probably in his sixties, was wheeled in, seated in a baby coach and wearing nothing but a diaper. Oh, and an asteroid was about the hit the earth.
Anyway, it was fabulous and great fun. After it was over, I spoke to three members of the cast, introduced myself, and one--the second lead, a woman probably in her sixties or older--gave me her number and asked me to call her. Indeed I will and it looks as if even more opportunities--or who knows, just fun happenings--are opening up.
Must spend today preparing for my address to The Palms residents re the acting course.