First Sunday February

I made a big fuss about no alarm clocks, but I rose at seven. I did the good morning writes and sits and reads on the couch. In HIIT I did the most burpees in the class. I did box jumps like a true beast fueled by the previous night's gig in Indiana and the oatmeal creme pie I ate on the way home. I was so spent I couldn't imagine eating yet. I texted Puhg and we walked through the snow to the grocery store. Everyone was buying chips and dips. We passed a pop-up brunch at our favorite veg cafe. Cruelty-free chicken & waffles. I don't remember what we talked about. I responded to a promising email. I organized my sweaters and laid down. Lesson plans over two eps of Big Love. A little watching the guy play Until Dawn. My bus didn't come, so I met my girl on the train platform. We were both late for our own meeting. I saw three other comedians standing at the Red Line. Sometimes Chicago is the smallest. The bar we walked to was closed, so we sat in the balcony of Whole Foods with serious faces and then outlining our new project. Oh, it's good. I can tell. I walked across the street to i_. My Harold team goes on every week, but there's a jubilance when we arrive to the same green room. I cherish the night and play an overbearing marketer. Our coach says, "I'm glad you worked through the Winnebago scene" and if that's not priceless improv garbage, what is? I couldn't interact any more, so I sat next to two people riding home, not speaking. The bus would take five minutes. I was cooked. I stood looking out for it. It arrived, empty save a man sleeping on it with a six pack next to his head. The driver got up and shook him. The man took his sweet time debarking. It was fine. There but for the grace of God. I forgot my keys and had to call up. I wasn't just ready for bed. Reddit posts until the blanket of tired tucked around me.

Spring Break Sunday

There's a special kind of elaborate trick the other participants in the 9 AM Maximum Force Kickboxing class pull on you when the instructor says, "Okay guys, let me hear you on this next set of jabs. YAH! Let me hear you!"...and you are the only one who screams "YAH" in the studio room of forty people.

I have officially submitted my musical to a festival. This is big. The first time you send it out "there," it's real. Not perfect, but it could be real. I hope I get in. I've been getting mostly rejections lately. I think rejection always stings. I've been improving my recovery time though. I can wallow for one, two minutes tops sometimes. The more rejections, the shorter the wallow time. This is an important tolerance to build.

To celebrate Bisque and I saw It Follows which I'll talk about another day. I ate gummy bears and all of my peanut butter M and Ms. Still, I was ravenous on the way home, emotional from lack of food and probably blitzed out with PMS. Crankily I cried into the wind that I wanted Taco Bell.

It is spring break for the Chicago City Colleges. I will always remember fondly the first night of Spring Break when I was in 8th grade. My friends and I piled into the Chevy Lumina and saw Josie and the Pussycats together. We left the theatre screaming "SIX WHOLE HOURS AND FIVE LONG DAY-AYS." I wrote in my diary that I was happy.

Basic Bean pic.

My mom was visiting Friday. To kick off break festivities we saw 9 Circles, a play about an American soldier who committed warcrimes in Iraq. A little different from Josie and the Pussycats, but rather satisfying. Plus we walked half a mile for the churros she likes. I took in the lights from downtown. Even the big fat TRUMP all sparkling. I am thinking Chicago, you are not so bad. The redline was full of people getting ready to party, but I was reading A Separate Peace, ready for bed.