I have sometimes thought, in the middle of writing a script, that it would be a good piece for a certain actor or actress I know to perform. However, I've never written a play specifically for an actor to perform.

Today, an idea popped into my head that would be perfect for two actors I know. One of them, of course, is my friend Mike, because he's the go-to guy for my scripts.

The other actor is Will, from the show that I'm in. Mike and Will are, I believe, just about the same age, and their acting styles are such that they'd fit nicely into a little idea I had for a ten-minute piece.

I wrote ten minutes, and hadn't even gotten to the buildup yet. I thought of paring it down to the essentials, but I realized the backstory is pretty interesting, and then I thought of twists and such, and now I think I have a full one-act ready to go, which is great, because I haven't written a decent one-act for awhile.

But it's not what I had in mind, which kind of irritates me. The long-term projects on my desktop don't include this particular one-act. I wanted ten minutes, goddamnit!

I'm being facetious when I say that, of course. I'm thrilled the stories are coming back to me. A one-act is really just three or four related ten-minute pieces, if you break it down to the essentials. It has a different rhythm, of course, but I have Part I ready, and tomorrow I can write Part II, and maybe I'll be done within the week, in rough draft format, at least.

I guess I'm teasing a bit, too. If Will (I'm not sure Mike reads the journal anymore) knows that I'm writing something that is specifically meant for him to do, I'm more likely to get it done.

And it's about straight guys, too! I'm expanding my horizons!

Now that I don't have a play to post, I guess I'll have to talk about my day.

Unremarkable, for the most part. I did have appointments to see both Dr. B. and Jane today, and I went to both.

Dr. B. was even more bouncy than usual today (if such a thing is possible), because my "scores" are very, very low. Every time I see him, he administers these questionnaires that ask about how depressed and anxious you are in or about certain situations. When I first started seeing him, my scores were very high (not good), and now, they're pretty much close to zero (very good).

He's also pleased as punch at the fact that I've taken steps towards dating, since that was my biggest block, anxiety-wise. I've found myself trying to figure out if I like the guy I'm with, rather than the other way around (the "ten rules" entry was mostly hyperbole used for effect, but thanks for the concerned messages), which is a new thing for me. Sure, I'm still neurotic, but I think I'm more normally neurotic than I used to be, if that makes any sense.

I also asked about weaning off the Klonopin. It does help me sleep, but most nights, I find that writing in the dark with the music on low, and maybe taking Skottie out for a late-night walk if I'm stressed or hyped up makes me tired enough that the Klonopin only serves as that much more of a boost. I don't know about waking up so many times during the night like I used to do; I (and Dr. B.) suspect that it was mostly due to anxiety, which the Zoloft is helping. I can always go back on it, but I don't like being on something that I can't stop without physical ramifications (well, the Zoloft has those as well, but I'll take that forever if it means I feel as normal as I do now) just to try to sleep.

He prescribed me something that I can take if I go for a couple of days without a decent night's sleep. It's old-time stuff and seems a little scary (though not as scary as the one he suggested that has a "very slight possibility of rendering you permanently impotent"), so I think I'll stay away from it unless it's entirely necessary.

And I saw Jane, but I'm really tired of talking about my mental state, and I'm sure y'all are tired of reading about it.

Work today was a little bit boring, but I got POWER! Oh, yes I did.

Well, for a week, anyway. Then Hyun comes back from vacation and I have to give the POWER! back to her. It's not all that exciting, really. Since my department deals with the company's knowledge, we also have to deal with who has access to that knowledge. Employees can request it, and as long as they're not contractors or temps, they can access documents. If they're accessing too many, or accessing a lot of stuff just before they're about to leave the company, then we have to make note of that.

For the next week, it's my responsibility to grant and take away access privileges, which sounds very impressive, but really, the rules are set in concrete and the interface is such that my 8-year-old niece could do it, but I like to think of myself as THE GATEKEEPER OF KNOWLEDGE for the next week. Maybe Hyun will decide it's something she'd rather not do when she gets back (all my teammates have a lot more on their plates than I do), and will give it to me. If that happens, I'll get business cards with THE GATEKEEPER OF KNOWLEDGE printed on them.

Oh right, our company doesn't put titles on business cards. Damnit. Nothing's working out for me today.

The day flew by, with the mental-health appointments and the weekly department meeting, and soon it was time to pick up The Fabulous Robert for dinner.

We had decided in advance that it would be a quick dinner, since both of us have had tiring weeks. Unfortunately, my keen sense of direction made it a longer evening than either one of us had planned. It was a pleasant enough drive, but when you end up on the opposite end of the city (in a suburb, no less) on a dead-end street surrounded by million-dollar houses, you know that the driver really doesn't know Boston like the back of his hand.

I don't know what it is about getting anywhere south of the city. I can navigate the north shore and the western part of the state with no problem, but get me past the South End, and I'm suddenly a blithering idiot. It's not because we're in the "bad" part of town; I don't generally worry about that sort of thing, it's just that my sense of direction gets lost the minute I stray from my particular part of the city. And the city isn't that big.

Someday, the Big Dig will be over and Boston can raze the whole city to the ground and put in a decent grid system instead of the paved-over, one-way cow paths it currently has.

I digress. Robert and I, after making our way to Newton Corner and back to the Jamaicaway (which, by the way, is the easiest thing in the world to find if you're not trying to do "shortcuts" that are really "half-assed attempts to avoid traffic"), which led us to his neighborhood, had a decent meal at a little pub-like place and chatted about all manner of things, none of which was his show that I want to direct. I'm sure we'll get to it, but I had to hear about the Naked Beach Party he has planned for this summer. I would be tempted to go myself, but 1.) I'm a little too fat right now, 2.) I'm way too pale all the time and 3.) I don't even like sand inbetween my toes, so I'm not going to risk it getting anywhere else. It will be a fabulous party, I'm sure, because if Robert knows anything, it's parties. When he decides to throw a clothed, in-the-shade party on a grassy knoll somewhere, I'll be there with a hotdish to share.

During my endless trips to make sure that I was still not insane, I stopped by Walgreen's to put in my prescription for the Scary Sleep Medicine. (I won't use it until the Klonopin is out of my system, but I know me, and the prescription will get lost among all the other tiny pieces of paper I accumulate somehow every day.) I did this at 1pm.

At 9pm, I stopped by the Walgreen's and was informed that the Scary Sleep Medicine was not in stock. Since they could have told me this (or called me with this information) sometime within the eight hours it took for me to come back, I was a little miffed. I asked if another Walgreen's had it in-stock, and the pharmacist told me that the other store on the other side of Malden had it. She told me it would take about 20 minutes, so I walked over to Blockbuster and took advantage of their "Buy 2, Get 1 Free" used DVD sale.

I went to the second Walgreen's, and the pharmacist told me that he thought that he had the Scary Sleep Medicine, but all he had was liquid, and I needed capsules. However, he had called ahead to Everett (the next town over), and they had capsules in-stock. He asked if I wanted to go there and pick them up.

By this time, I was feeling like a junkie (because I had looked up the Scary Sleep Medicine online, and apparently people from the 19th century used to become addicted to it quite often), but I went with the theme and said I'd pick it up there.

I eventually got my Scary Sleep Medicine and drove home, where Mom asked me if I had stopped by Laurie's to watch the finale of Survivor. I told her I hadn't yet (Laurie still has it on TiVo), but I've known the Final 2 since Day 1 (spoilers sometimes sneak up on you). She said the finale was...interesting (pause hers), so I'll have to watch it, even though I know who won and I wasn't all that interested in the cast since Stephenie was voted out.

Scott (my personal-ad date for Thursday) just wrote to me to say he has a scratchy throat, and though he's taking Zicam and liquids right now, he might not be able to make it to the show on Thursday. I wrote back and told him to rest up if he needed to. I don't want to force the issue and have him come to the show out of some sense of guilt.

Part of me is trying to freak out over this; find a reason why he'd back out of the date, but I'm surprisingly freakout-free.

Either I'm maturing or my (lowered) dose of Klonopin has kicked in.