I am drowning in rehearsals. This is a good thing. I have a huge concert Saturday evening and another on Sunday afternoon, at which point I believe my performances are finished until January. Maybe. Usually there are spur of the moment Christmas things that crop up between now and next month, but they're small and don't take a great deal of rehearsal time. And I like them.
Our Christmas tree and home remain undecorated. We decided to wait until Tabitha comes home to do this. It's not that decorating is her thing, its just that we want her here when we do it--sort of difficult to explain our motivation, but given my spare time level, I'm glad to put it off.
My new job is interesting and I like it, but available work is unpredictable and sporadic. I'm giving the job a couple of weeks, but I'm not able to get more time in I'll be looking for something else.
Yesterday at the gym I encountered a middle-aged man (older, even, than I am) running stairs. He was wearing obnoxiously bright patterned running shorts (which is fine, I don't really care what people wear), and no shirt. This is the first time I've encountered a shirtless person at the gym and I'm left feeling very strongly that people need to wear shirts. Please, please, please, wear shirts. I don't want to see your abundant, sweaty chest hair and bouncing pecs--ever--and all the other parts that wobble on your torso really, really want to be covered. I know this.
Yes. I know I'm being unreasonable. I don't care. I want that man to put his shirt on.
I would like to say I'm not traumatized by this, but I usually go to the gym between 5:30 and 6:30 a.m. It is now 10:30 and I've not yet left. I'm ridiculous.
Maybe I'll nix my workout today and play Scrabble instead.