Bucky Goldstein's Sweat House

Well my darlings, I feel like I've been out to pasture over the last week and I'm just returning from a cattle-drive.  Yee-haw!  I'm a fine arts cowboy, ridin' and ropin' abstract concepts so you can chow down on thick, juicy, socially critical tenderloins at your table tonight.

I think I'm going to let that grievously mixed metaphor go, for fear of eliciting any Brokeback responses.  

In some measure of seriousness, however, I feel exceptionally disconnected from the world around me over the last week.  It's probably because I haven't had as much time to diddle with my atrocious Fantasy Baseball team (is it sad that I took a break just then to diddle with said team?), peruse the latest offbeat news articles on Fark.com, or to keep up on The Secret Diary of Steve Jobs.  

Could it be that...(gasp) I'm BUSY?

Boy, it has been a WEEK, dearies. Auditions and auditions and working and eating sometimes and apartment hunting and rehearsing and scheduling more auditions and rehearsing and attending impromptu social events and moving people and apartment hunting and rehearsing and nibbling on olives.

I usually don't have a hard time keeping up on these things; it's only in times of reflection that I notice really how much I've done.  And suddenly it's early August.  Jesus, I'll be wearing fashionable sport jackets and hoodies in a month-and-a-half.  I'll have another show under my belt, and hopefully will have another to do.  Maybe a vacation.  

But that is SO FAR AWAY now.  My itinerary for just TODAY includes:

*Finalizing an apartment application and laying down a security deposit for said apartment

*Critical laundry-doing

*Assisting friend in preparing for theater/re benefit

*Submitting headshots to reputable small theater/re companies

*Don smart-looking suit and masculine-smelling hair grease

*Meeting lady-friend in Lakeview, then proceeding to said theater/re benefit

*Alcohol-induced blindness

Is it disconnection I'm experiencing or possibly...hyperconnection?  I'm so goddamned plugged-in that I've overloaded my dutifully multitasking internal circuit-breaker, leading to a system-wide power failure.  The answer to that supposition would then clearly be...sleep.  Which begs the question: why am I here, awake at 5:30 in the morning, writing this?  

I'm out of my freakin' mind.  

It's time to get one of those bulleted items taken care of, my children.  

Oh, and finally I would like to ask all of you for your prayers.  My future roommate and I discovered the most wonderful apartment I've ever seen in my four years in Chicago yesterday.  I won't say much about it for fear of jinxing, but I'll say this: it has a sauna.  You will all be invited over for schvitzing and cocktails if we get it.  Wish me luck.