So, the news is that we're going to New York to do a play for Manhattan Rep's winter one act festival. Like, soon. Like, this week. As in, we just got back from California, and now we're packing up to go to New York and shuffle ourselves around between gracious friends for a week to do four performances of a truly lovely play that lasts about ten minutes.
And here is where the conflict begins. It's the conflict between my ambition and my homebody-ness. Or maybe it's conflict between my ambition and my good sense. Or maybe the conflict between bad sense and good sense. Either way, there's conflict there.
Because, on the one hand, all I really want to do is stay home in this freezing weather and re-organize my pantry after an article I just read about organizing one aspect of your home each month. When we moved in here, I just sort of threw things anywhere at all; I'd love a more functional pantry.
But, I also know that if organizing my pantry was all I had to do this January, I'd wish for something more. I'd wish for this. For what I have.
And really, for all my misgivings and basic tiredness, every time I read through the script, when I speak the words and start to embody them, it all falls away. And I'm just grateful. Always grateful for an opportunity to act.