Oh, what a good girl am I! I spent hours and worked my fingers to the bone hauling out my acting paraphrenia from the high shelf in the closet, under the bed, and a few other places, in order to prepare to stow it in the thirty-gallon container at Ellen's. I'll get it today at Wal-Mart.
I was a little disappointed when Suzanne said she'd take me at 9:30 today after I had called her on Wednesday; I really wanted to go immediately. Also, it's going to be really late before I get breakfast. On the other hand, that probably worked out better, as once I have everything out, I can look it over and decide to keep or toss more easily. I forced myself to refrain from reading over my plays and/or roles. I have a tendency to get waylaid, thereby avoiding a chore.
I suspended it long enough to walk to The Market for three pounds of tomatoes, a bag of onions, and rice; bused part of the way back. Cut up my tomatoes, two large onions, oiled, seasoned, and popped them in the oven. While they cooked, I continued my clearing out chore. I still have some to do, but my apartment, especially the bedroom closet, is ever so much neater and better organized.
I'm now watching Before The Devil Knows You're Dead, starring my favorite actor (sob!) Philip Seymour Hoffman. It's bizarre and unsettling to see him playing a business man who's a druggie, considering he died of a drug overdose in real life. Albert Finney, of all people, plays his father--with an American accent, of course, Ethan Hawke his brother. I find the movie very absorbing.
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