The Play.

It feels like hot candle wax is pent up inside my face. That's about how this head-cold feels. Uncomfortable. But it will be over soon enough.

We finished our closing show last night. I hadn't realized how much of a creative outlet it had become for me until today, when I corrected my thoughts, reminding myself that I didn't have play practice tonight or tomorrow night, either, for that matter.

Instead, I am gearing up for a whole new life. Motherhood. Continuing in the role of wife. Living in a small town, rather than a big city. Having a car again? I'm not sure I know how to drive anymore! Staying home with our little girl, Zooey, and cooking dinner for my husband when he gets home from work. A lot less out-and-about...just as busy? Maybe. Probably. I can't imagine being mother to a newborn and not being just as busy, if not more so, than I am now. But I don't think I will dislike my time off from school, either. I am already dreading the spring semester when I will return. And I haven't even experienced the break yet. I don't want to leave my little girl home with someone else. I want to be a mom, a stay-at-home mom, and already have my degree, and have already done my internship, and not have to think about whether she is being taken care of according to my specifications, or be sure to make my train.

But this will come in time. I will need to finish, to persevere, to have strength until the end. It is very daunting.

I'd like to start painting more again. Today is not the day for it, because I'm quite sure I would come out with a brown mess on a ruined canvas, simply because my brain is far too fuzzy. I can't quite tell if my fever is going up again...I would really rather not take more tylenol. I'm biased against the stuff. But soon, I will paint again. Very soon. I can't stand to not paint. It makes me crazy.

Maybe someday I could sell a painting or two. It's doubtful. But I've always dreamt of selling an art-form of some kind. Maybe someday.

Waiting for Nicholas to get off work, I tried to study for a little. Yeah, right. Because I'm lucid enough for that. Everything I tried came out wrong. Even the homework I did for Dr. V today was so messed up. I hope that he remembers my inability to focus today. He probably will. What a great professor. He always asks how I'm doing. Always asks about little Zooey. Always tells me to rest. It is nice to have a professor say that, as opposed to, "You're late!" or "You've over-cut!" or "Why do you need so many prenatal checkups?" or my all-time favourite, "I can't do anything to help you." Truthfully, though, I think I need to experience all this. So that someday, when I may be a professor, I can be strong in my convictions, and yet understanding enough to recognize when a student just plain out needs a break. You'd think that being a pregnant wife who attends school full-time would be a pretty good reason for that, just like someone who breaks their leg or gets pneumonia.

This post is going to be way to honest, I'm sure. It's the fever talking. I had better go find a thermometer.