Beeping.

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Acting. Tal. Marilyn. Alan in his Rockie’s hat and shirt. 70. Deb. Gretchen. Hamish. Jill. Terence. Kep, who finally came back up on the bed last night. Herme. Overstory. Sanford Meisner. Connie Zweig. Richard Bresnahan. Kate, always Kate. Lana Harris. The fat waddly Animal that scurried off the road last night and up the Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Playwrights

Tarot: King of Bows, the Adder

“Adder asks us to step into our own power and to face our challenges (as individuals as well as groups and nations) with maturity and strength. We can choose to heal instead of poison. We can learn to exercise our authority without striking out in fear.” tarotx.net

 

Even though I’ve time shifted to a 10 pm bed time, the morning after acting class is still brutal. Up at 8:15 this morning. Practically the afternoon for my old schedule. Got home last night at 9:30 after dropping Deb off. Bed at 10:40.

A good but long and difficult workout in the morning, too. Puts the body through its paces. Add that to three hours of sitting on metal folding chairs at the Evergreen Players… Oh, my.

Worth it though. Gonna continue with acting classes. I know how to think about complex, abstruse matters. Probably past time for me to start writing about them, getting my truth out there.

Working with my emotions, performing, following a new art form, being part of it. All need burnishing. Time. Also. New people.

Next to last Astrology class. Upper Maxwell Falls right after because snow on its way. Yep. Right now it’s snowing puppies and kittens. All moisture good. About 4:30 pm.

 

OK. Dominating my life right now. A beeping sound. It’s on my level. I’ve gone around the room four times stopping, waiting. Dividing the walls in half. So eight stops. One sided hearing makes this a maddening enterprise. Somewhere. Somewhere. Not the usual suspects. Nothing’s blinking. Living alone with this is a real nuisance. It’s not an alarm signal from a CO2 alarm or a smoke alarm. It’s not my oxygen  concentrator. Grrrr. Not sure what to do.

Gonna ignore it right now and hope it goes away. Not an adult solution, but the only one I come up with right now. Chirp chirp chirp. Aarggh.

Ok. Plot thickens. I take off my hearing aid and I can’t hear it. I know what you’re thinking, but no, I can still hear without my hearing aid. I don’t think it’s the hearing aid, rather I think it’s picking up a bluetooth signal from something else. But what? Tough when you have sensory assistance to know how you know.

Could get all philosophical here, but I won’t.