Getting My Chain Jerked, Part 2413….

So, the E.D. just called me (I had left a message with his office, asking him to get back to me with details about the Lord Mayor role)….

“Well, in the time since Alice called you, the playwright has decided to write the Lord Mayor out. So we won’t have one.”

Ah-ha.

Right, then. Chess Match auditions it is.

10 Replies to “Getting My Chain Jerked, Part 2413….”

  1. Oh. My. God.

    If you ever even toy with the idea of working for that man again, I will kick you. Or flay you, depending on my mood.

    Seriously.

  2. Yeah, I know…..the worst part about this, though, is that I had managed to convince myself to accept the role. So the sudden disappearance of the opportunity came as yet another rug-out-from-under moment (so many this week….).

  3. Perhaps the universe itself is trying to tell you it was a very, very bad idea…

    The key to your continued participation in that performance venue at this point is picking and choosing opportunities in which you are wholly in control of your physical output. You give over control to anyone else, you are straight up asking for it to be the last time you walk the grounds.

    And you know, the Lord Mayor is not a big enough plum for you to make that level of sacrifice.

    Assuming the Chess Match works out, you’ll have a single 30 minutes of output, with the rest of the day wholly within your control, with that control, you can limit the damage done.

    I know how much it sucks to have to deal with things from that perspective. It’s been my lot for easily the last 5 years. So forgive me for wanting to have a Gareth in that environs for a longer rather than shorter period…

    D.

  4. I’ve been directed by the Jimster, in one of his USO shows.

    What i saw in the midst of that production … well, I won’t say it shocked me, but it made me deeply, deeply appreciate not being in the Inner Circle. I like the man. Will take a raincheck on being directed by him again.

    Trust me, amigo, the rug has not been pulled out from under you. Rather, the rug has been thrown on top of you to smother the flames of your moment of self-destructiveness.

  5. Who is laughing? That’s a pretty apt statement of The Fates telling you to run like hell from His Endeavors. (I spent two years in Purgatory, AKA The Theme Weekend Program. That was enough of the insanity for me.)

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