T is for Tiger

Today: Collapse.

So, everyone is finally gone. I realized sometime two days ago that I had not NOT had a visitor to my apartment in nearly 3 weeks—not including the extra person who is LIVING in my apartment, and has been for a few months. So, finally, that weight is off my shoulder. But, then things started to get a little hairy yesterday. I had a pretty easy plan: Get up, go to audition, do well, go to rehearsal, rehearse, do well, go home, watch latter days with Jonathan and then sleep soundly, knowing I’d accomplished a lot.

Well, life had a different plan. I woke up and found that the audition clothes I’d laid down on the couch were wet. Looking up I realized that my ceiling was leaking. I got a large glass bowl and put it there, dried my shit the best I could and then went to the audition, late, and it was full. I said ‘ok, best not to think about the what-ifs’ and headed to the rehearsal.

The rehearsal was for my audition to NYU. It’s going well, now. It was hard work, though and I’m a little burnt from the process. We decided after rehearsal to go to my house and make food and watch Latter days. Well, when I got home, the ceiling was still dripping and it looked as though the place where it was dripping had started bowing. ‘Great,’ I thought, ‘my ceiling’s going to collapse.’ We all had a hearty laugh at the prospect of the money-pit/will and grace scene that would unfold if that were the case. Oh, my prophetic soul. I’m never going to joke about shit like that again. I had finished eating and the water situation had gotten better and worse a couple of times and Jonathan were cleaning up dinner (my room mate and his boyfriend had had their daily fight and the boyfriend had left in a huff) and suddenly I looked up and saw that the only thing that was holding the patch of ceiling up was paint. I looked at Jonathan and said ‘hand me that cleaver, there.’

He backed up and I cut down the ceiling. Rather me than nature, I figured, I at least controlled it somewhat. Thank goodness I used to be a party-loving drunk. The 20 gallon basin that I used at Busch Gardens for white-trash punch was really handy. Well, I finally got to bed at about 2, after my room mate’s boyfriend came home, said ‘oh my god’ and went back into their room, resuming the fight. I’m not sure what their deal is, but he’s supposedly moving out on Monday and for all involved I can’t wait.

So. That’s where I am. I’m progressing, even if there’s a still-dripping hole in my living room.