Wednesday, March 30, 2005
It's week six from the end. The hardest week of tour. Because up until this point you're committed for four months. And the end is nowhere in sight. It's just this nebulous amount of time. And then you're six weeks out. And suddenly you can see the finish line. And the honeymoon is over. And you have to love people by willpower instead of feelings.
One day it comes to you all of the things you miss about being settled. Internet. Bubble baths. Tea. A library of books that couldn't fit in a tupperware. Featherbed and down comforters. Going anywhere without taking into consideration thirteen other people. Driving your own car. Web surfing. And on and on for all of week six.
The job is routine. Tear down goes easily. The show is old hat, and as you pass the 20 mark and near show 30 you struggle to find new motivation for stale lines (No one is ever going to laugh at "Well, it's the good book.") and wonder in passing how they ever did 5,000 performances of Fiddler. You wake up and realize you don't know where you are, and you've forgotten the names of the people who drove you home. You frantically search for mail to fill out the thank you card.
Team relationships solidify. By now they've seen you at your worst, and in week six you don't much love yourself (am I really that whiney?) or anyone else (are THEY really that whiney?). But you know about them. And their aunt with cancer. Their cousin in a coma. The friend they pray for every day. The girlfriend who doesn't believe. The boyfriend that just became more. Struggles with parents and money and growing up and moving out and where-does-God-fit-into-it-all. So even when you want to blow everyone off and go home you can't, and really don't want to when you stop and think about it.
And then we'll be through it and week five will be upon us, and by week three the end will be looming and there won't be enough time to spend with people who for a short time were your family and will all be going separate ways. And then it will be the lasts. Last show. Last drive. Last song. Last homestay. Last trip. Last packing. Last flight. And life will go back to normal. And you'll realize how much you miss it all.
But all that's still to come. We still have to survive week six.
Oh I am so proud of me. I had my credit card all paid up from my car repairs (had to charge it to the card while I transferred money from my savings account in Tightwad, MO), but my balance showed 49.98. I thought I'd paid everything off within the grace period, so no interest should have accrued. And, being a little shaky on how quickly interest accrues anyway, I thought it sounded a bit high. But I didn't want to have it increase while I wasn't looking, so I opted to pay it off today.
But then I looked at my statement one last time before I paid it. My records are in too good of shape right now for it to be an oversight charge. So I went over it with a fine tooth comb. And voila! My movie rental store has continued to charge me for unlimited rentals in a state which I don't currently inhabit. So I called them. And I called the store. And their refunding the charges (in a long circuitous way) back to my card. So, for once, I didn't end up shelling out money needlessly because of a financial oversight on my part.
It feels very good. Ha.