In A Moment
I like to plan. Everything. What days I’m going to work on what play. What hours I’m going to work on what website. I will even plan out what I’m going to eat for the week, so that I know when I can splurge on calories. This way, as long as I do what the computer tells me to do, I won’t forget anything. The other nice thing about keeping track of basically my entire life on the computer means that with a couple clicks, I can put something off for a couple hours. Or days. Or weeks. Which is what kept happening with these one-minute plays. The idea of making something funny, dramatic, thoughtful, interesting(!) in basically one page was daunting to say the least. Every idea seemed too complicated, too sketch-y, but with the deadline fast approaching, I knew I had to make a deadline and stick with it. So naturally, I gave myself some more time and decided that when I got back from visiting with my partners family in Cleveland for the holidays, I would sit down and figure this out.
Fast forward to the day we’re leaving Cleveland and heading back to New York. The infamous blizzard of 2010 is dumping buttloads of snow on the Northeast, but luckily, our flight is still on schedule. We’re packed, have said our goodbyes, and are on the road to the airport.
There it was. One word. You would have thought someone had just punched me in the neck. My mood went from, “That was nice. We really should talk to our landlord about getting a dog like your sister has” to “Are you F%#KING KIDDING ME?!” I won’t bore you with the details, but after many phone calls and long lines at the airport, we finally got rebooked on a flight home, albeit four days later. We sprung for a hotel for the extra nights, as the air mattress at my sister-in-laws had sprung a leak, and we made the best of it. And I smiled.
And then I sat down to write. Because I think I had figured it out. That’s when the big changes happen. In a moment. And usually in the ones we don’t plan. That’s where the play begins.