Summer has set in with its usual severity.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772 - 1834), poet
Dying of Heat. My apartment is rather nice; it has a wonderful view, which truly is its only feature. Friday night I decide it is time to turn on the air conditioning, but discover that there is no cold air coming out the vents. I have been yelling, leaving angry messaging, I have called their emergency line myriad times, I created a scene in front office, I carry-on in front my building rising my voice for all to hear as I argued with management about their incompetence and their entire bait and switch that I feel has taken place since I signed a lease. My place is well over 100 degrees inside and it is uninhabitable. I spent the night at a friend’s on Saturday and I will find another friend or go to my parent’s house tonight. Finally, today Sunday afternoon at 3:30 management is so proud of themselves for going to the hardware store and buying a portable air conditioning unit. They started to do that Saturday afternoon, but the head moron who is a condescending bitch, said no and they were going to get a repair crew out instead. Newsflash, when all of Southern California is sweltering under record temperatures there is not a repairman to be found, especially at 4 p.m. on a Saturday evening. The battle continues.
Ouch. I watched the movie “The Break Up.” As the movie drifted toward the end, I started feeling very uncomfortable. After it was over, I walked out of the theater with Daughter, I said, hit a bit too close to home to really be enjoyable and she agreed.
Playwriting Debut. I was unable to attend the rehearsal and direction of my short 10-minute, which I will explain a bit further down. The good news was that I watched the play for the first time with actors reading it while also do a few stage movements.
Kudos to the actors! They really transformed and brought life to the play. It was a thrill for me to watch it and here people laughing throughout. However, I there was a part of me that felt weird watching it and thinking I created it. It must be that old Groucho Marx comment about I don’t want to belong to any club that would accept me as a member.