Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone

This week, the Marvelous Meerkat and I performed our second cabaret to great success. The first was such a pleasure, but our second show was imbued with the confidence and trust in each other that made it infinitely more rewarding. That, combined with awesome musicians and a crowd full of supportive friends and co-workers, made for a killer performance. The venue was awesome. MM and I were walking around for days afterwards glowing with triumph.

I personally was also walking around in a near-catatonic state. When I was in high school, my friends and I put together a theater company and put on musical revues. It was called Phanatics. We did this not just to be imminently cool and attractive to the opposite (or same) sex, but also to get to work on the kind of music and musicals we felt passionately about. I remember being able to do all of the work required for that and still have the energy for schoolwork and a social life and a million extra-curricular activities. Over a decade later, I barely had the energy to go to work for two days before departing for a family trip to Baton Rouge.

My bedroom looks like a shrine to size 10 shoes, scraps of paper, and Duane Reade bags. My Gmail looks like a shrine to unopened emails. My face looks like a shrine to blemishes and dark circles. I’m what my mom would call a “po’ little chicken.” Lying in my bed watching the final Harry Potter movie (seriously a work of art) and chewing my beloved Orbitz Wintermint gum is doing wonders to restore me. Maybe I’ll come up with the energy to wade through my suitcase and do some laundry. Or maybe I’ll think of it tomorrow. I can stand then. After all, tomorrow is another day.


2 thoughts on “Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone

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