With the help of my father, I am now in possession of two sacrament trays. The bread tray would make a really cool ashtray. If I smoked. The water tray would make a great mini-shots flight. Alas, I have to return them to their rightful owner when I'm done with them, so no creative re-use is in their near future.
The show opens tonight. There is no longer anything I can do about it. I just have to give in to it. It's its own thing, now.
I've spent this day pining for the weekend, when I can do some long-neglected menial tasks, like laundry, vaccuuming, tidying, knitting. Maybe even socializing!
But first, tonight.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
I am mentally preparing myself for a difficult phone call that I will make on my lunch break. I'll be phoning a local Mormon church to inquire about borrowing some Sacrament trays for my upcoming theater piece.
I am so scared to make this phone call that my heart is pounding and my hands are shaking.
When my dad suggested this as the easiest way to procure some sacrament trays, I didn't balk or hesitate at the notion. Now that the time has come to take the action, I feel like backing down, like that time I chickened out on the Waimea Wave roller coaster at Raging Waters and walked back down all those stairs, flinching at the bickering eyes of children more brave (or less honest) than I.
Right now, I desperately want to turn back. But I need those trays.
Posted by Channing Sargent at 12:38 PM