Remember Kevin claimed I wouldn't be able to survive without him? He even insisted that he did "so much" around here, and I wouldn't be able to handle doing it all on my own. Well, so far, the house is cleaner than it's ever been--and it's staying that way. I even manage to haul those big ol' trash cans out to the curb with my puny girl arms. The only problem I've had is with the damn lawnmower. I couldn't pull the starter cord hard enough, but Daniel could. However, the first time Daniel tried to cut the grass, it ran for a few minutes and stopped. Turns out it was out of oil. Stupid me, I assumed Kevin kept an eye on the oil level. I went out later that day and bought oil, and Daniel came back Saturday to try again. We put some oil in, but again, the lawnmower ran for a few minutes and then stopped. Daniel's out of town all week, so I'm going to have to call a lawn service until I can figure out what's going on or ask Kevin to come over and see what the hell he did to my lawnmower the last time he used it. :-|
Other than that, I'm surviving quite nicely, thank you. I'm even healthier! I went to the doctor Friday for a checkup, and he was delighted with my weight loss. He was even happier with the reduction in my blood pressure (now an impressive 115/60) and pulse rate. I was tickled that he looks exactly like Paul Winfield with glasses. (Paul Winfield played Captain Terrell in Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, who, along with Chekov, had an ear worm inserted that drove him insane. I hear he's doing fine now.) It's much easier when I'm doing casting for the movie about my life when people already look like existing actors. I still can't think who should play me, however. Any suggestions?
I meant to write about this earlier, but a few weeks ago, the reunion coordinator for my high school class e-mailed and asked whether I could verify that I graduated with the class of 1977. He acted as though he didn't remember me, and he was in the play I assistant-directed my junior year (The Bad Seed). Hmmmph! I wrote back and said yes, I could verify I belonged with that class because I remembered he wrote new lyrics for David Bowie's "Golden Years" to fit our cast and crew. (In his defense, he probably couldn't find a record of me graduating that year because I graduated a year early and took off for college without telling anyone in high school.)
That was enough to jog his memory, and he gave me updates on people we'd done theater with. I was a little upset to hear our drama teacher, Mr. K, died several years ago, but he was middle-aged when I knew him. I was more upset to hear that a good friend, who I even dated a few times after high school, died about 10 years ago, possibly of AIDS complications. I can't help wondering whether he knew he was gay back then. Well, I'm sure we all had things under the surface we were hiding.
Right now, I'm hiding from the thought of the week ahead, which I'm dreading. I have a lot of work to do, the weather is supposed to be brutally hot, and I won't have much contact with Ed. He's in training this week that involves being outside in full body armor--and in August in Georgia, that's not going to be fun. His week is going to be much worse than mine, poor guy.