Keep Moving

Don't get between a male lion and his pride. So much to do and we're coming down on crunch time here, tempers will be frayed, best to nip these things in the bud, get enough done ahead of time to hold the beast at bay. I'm feeling a little better, but mention I need a round of antibiotics, and the new hire, our Educational Director's ex-husband is a doc, she makes a phone call and he phones a script into Kroger's. Then Sara and Pegi, in a brainstorm, enlist a Cirque couple to make the Friday delivery, which frees me up for another whole day, things begin to look possible. So like theater, it's ridiculous, make it happen, the number of times I've been told that. James (my new helper) and I get out tables, bring up the benefit auction items from the basement, then set about framing 25 photos, my goal now to have these done by Friday and make two Cleveland trips in the next two weeks. Several things need reframing, including a major painting. Crates will have to be built but that's months away, another show upstairs before that, if we don't die before then. We're stretched, and I end up picking up the slack, nothing for it, and I don't mind, as long as no one yells at me or suggests that I could have done something better. Find someone better and hire them if you think that's true, I'm replaceable but not for what I'm paid. Anyone else would laugh. D rolled his eyes when Trish was explaining something to a prospective client, her grammar was so bad, I went downstairs and cleaned toilets, humming a Neil Young song. "Southern Man."