Well, you would have thought things were about as bad as they could possibly get at my last post (ie, complete failure to work, more to organise than is humanly possible, and the social side of my life having reached the stage where it was yet another exhausting chore, rather than my time off) But no. The world, in a fit of bitter black humour, managed to make things even more stressful.
To whit, upon crawling home from dancing at 10pm on Monday night (which had managed to make itself into a huge stress by running late for the blood doning) I found a nice happy answerphone message waiting:
"Hello Sally, this is Sheila Wall, from the pensioners fellowship, just to confirm we're looking forward to seeing you on Wednesday at 2"
Which was news to me, as they'd never gotten back to me months before about whether they wanted us or not.
So I phoned to cancel (they play isn't going to be ready until Monday, and barely by then, and besides, how many of the cast would be free mid afternoon at 40 hours notice?) and was met by a most adimant personality, who was convinced she'd confirmed the booking with one of my housemates who had "promised he'd pass the message on". It was made very clear that she had 30 pensioners expecting the light entertainment on Wednesday, and Light Entertainment they were going to get, even if it was just me giving them a talk about the society. Sigh
Anyway, 40 hours of complete stress and many emails later, a wonderful group of people (who I will now forever love) made its way to the age concern building to perform a rag tag, script holding, props minimal, costume nonexistent, piano lacking run of the original 6-part little red ridinghood. Two of them barely knew me, and hadn't had anything to do with the original show, but were prepaired to risk public humiliation to help me out. One of them had severe doubts about whether we should do it, as "It will be crap and bring the name of CULES into disrepute". But they all trusted me (fools) and took the time out to make a difference to people. And it was surprisingly good. The old people were alive and alert, and laughed at the jokes (especially the cataracts joke and the lumberjack song), and gave us chocolates and tea, and showered praises on us along the lines of "thankyou for not leaving us in the lurch, some people would just have cancelled and left us to it without a second thought".
I love CULES.
So hey, now that's sorted I'm just left with the last posts list of doom to sort out. Plus all the other things that have gone hidiously wrong because I've been too busy stressing over CULES stuff...