oh goddammit schrodinger, leave us all alone!

Item One: I hate being presented with a choice that doesn't even exist yet. I would rather it be difficult and present and right in my face like a Meisner partner, than be impending and biding its sweet time. Bastard.

Item Two: Is this even a big deal? No. And maybe? The reason it's not a big deal is because, again, there is no choice to make...and there may not be, but then again...

See, I haven't been living in the present very well these days. It helps when I'm onstage and feeling things, but not so much when I'm practically broke and have a nearly empty gas tank, all my Christmas presents to buy for important people in my life, and a phone that doesn't work (but really needs to, damn it, by next week!), plus about 4-6 inches of snow that only promises to be a base layer of white coating.

I always do this, though. I always try to draw up the consequences of going down each possible path when I hit a fork in the road. (It's the only part of the organization gene that I inherited from my mother, I suppose.) And this planning and over-analyzing part of me never seems to be awake when she really needs to be (see "Finances"), but when it comes to things I shouldn't be worrying over this much anymore, she's running on three cups of coffee and rarin' to go.

I was contact by Eastern Seaboard, who wants to have lunch when he's in town next week for Christmas. I replied, saying I'd like to see him, and keep in contact.

This somehow spurned in me a small bravery that prompted me to ask you if you were going to be home for the holidays, and would you like to hang out? Satisfied with a rather vague yes, and yes, I sat back and realized that there wasn't that big of a window of time for me to see either, as the middle panes have been taken up with illustrations of family time. Which I'm not complaining about, but still.

And no, this is not a big deal. Yet. May not be. Again, the box is still closed on this one.

But as anyone who knows me, or who has even read this blog long enough, knows, I fucking hate playing the waiting game.

Well, as long as I'm on hold, might as well sing along to the music. If I can.