Dreamed of a non-existent John Hughes-style 1980s comedy about a teenage girl who gets stuck with taking care of a doddering old lady.
Dinner was scalloped potatoes and ham.
At the drama course I improvised a scene at Olympus where I was the crippled blacksmith god Vulcan. We didn't get to do the scene from Picnic. (Earlier in the day I was performing both roles for the family. I wish Moira wouldn't be so quick to tell me how to act!) I'd left my black sweater there the previous week, but it was still there when I returned.
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