Looking Up

Things are looking up. Getting better. Improving. My back is slightly better. Carol told me about some non-prescription drugs (Robax Platinum) that have been helpful in reducing the severity and frequency of muscle spasms. The head cold has yet to fully materialize and remains nothing more than a slightly sore throat, with the occasional sneeze. My mood is somewhat elevated. Things are "looking up."

The rehearsal last night was ... well, it wasn't quite fun, but it wasn't the horrible misery I had expected. We rehearsed all of the second act, which is even more frenetic that the first. Larry helped out by standing in for the absent young Robin Cowan, who joined the cast three weeks into the production schedule and now must take time off. Too bad Larry couldn't play the part of Gavin. He's certainly more familiar with it than Robin is.

There was a point in the rehearsal last night where things suddenly began to gel a bit for me. The play began at last to make sense in a chronological way. A bit, anyway. And I felt a sort of relief at my slight glimmer of understanding. There's a light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. Dear God, I hope it's not another train.

Kelly called a while ago. She's my ex, remember? Ex #1. Dan and Meagan's mum. She's fed up with The Boy. She couldn't be more specific. She's just "fed up". He still has no job. He's still behaving like a truculent teenager, and now Kelly no longer receives child support payments for him. She signed a paper. I mailed it to the Family Responsibility Office.

"If you can't bear it another minute," I told her, "send him packing."

"Do you want him to live with you, Dale? Do you feel like trying again?"

"No. Not really, Kel'," I said. "But if you're considering bludgeoning him in his sleep, I'll take him to avoid ruining the bed linen."

"Thanks," she said. "I'll let you know."

That was a couple of hours ago. I haven't heard back from her. Keep your fingers crossed.