It’s Monday already? You have got to be kidding me. But I don’t want it to be Monday. I just want to be a crybaby about it. You know, like LeBooHoo. He cries with us.

Welp, here comes production week. I have one last rehearsal tonight with the cast only (before the pit players arrive tomorrow night). Stuff needs to be fixed. Vocal repair, dance repair, cast repair. Repair.

I feel like repairing back to my warm bedroom, under the electric blanket. Anyone else dreading this morning?

Blark.

Waarom? Why?

I mean, really. Who eats candy for breakfast? Ugh. Now I’m sick. Serves me right. Why do I do this? Ah well. Get the coffee and get on with it. There is much to do this day.

The tech rehearsal went well yesterday. There might be a show in there somewhere, although we’re really nowhere near ready for prime time. Today is the annual rehearsal and dinner with my quartet. Caleb, Cory, Haydon and Ben will be here at 5:00 tonight for lasagna, Caesar salad, garlic bread, mint chocolate chip ice cream cake and rehearsal. Not in that order. Gotta work out some kinks first, then mangia.

OK so why do I want to punch something this morning? I mean, last time I checked, I have a beautiful family, fantastic friends, a job I love, a cozy home, and an awesome dog. What’s up with the sour mood? Is it the cup full of malted milk balls? Am I having an episode of some kind? Why do I hate everything and everyone (except you)?

All right, doctors. Ready, steady, elucidate. I’m going for the java; I’ll be right back. Rawr.

…a good deed shines in a weary world.

After Monday’s infuriating debacle on the phone with CitiGroup, I was honestly dreading the phone call I had to make yesterday. When they tell you to “call back on Thursday,” it’s rarely because you’re going to hear good news.

It started the same: talking to some nice (albeit clueless) basement-level droid. Chris, after asking me the standard verification questions, said, “OK, how can we help you today? Oh, I see we have an escrow issue.” I gave him the spiel in the smallest nutshell I could devise, and he said, “Ma’am, I’m going to escalate this past the next level, to a division manager. We are going to get this fixed. Stay with me.”

I yawned. Been there, heard that, got the headache.

Then “Bobbie” came on board. As I recounted my sad tale, she asked questions along the way. After each answer, she said things like, “Yep, I see that here.” Then she interrupted me and said, “I’m sorry, but something is happening on my screen right now — as we’re talking.” I asked oh really, what? She said, “The correct amounts are being applied in realtime, as I sit here looking at my monitor. The changes have now been made. You’re all set!”

I sat in silence for a moment, then said, “You know, Bobbie, you will surely understand if I tell you that I’m a bit skeptical. I’ve heard those words from you guys before.” She laughed and said she didn’t blame me, but that I should go into my online account and look.

So I logged into my account, clicked on “Insurance and Escrow,” and there it was. Fixed. Not only was it fixed, but my adjusted mortgage payment is $9 lower, instead of gobs higher while being smacked with bogus late charges because they didn’t apply the escrow overage where they should have. Bobbie also told me that all red flags were removed from my account, and that my perfect payment record was restored.

Dare I speak it? All’s well that ends well. But I’ll be on the lookout for that other shoe, thanks all the same.

Speaking of awesome people and good deeds: my cast and crew rolled out the welcome mat for Jake and Justin’s trick-or-treat visit to rehearsal last night. They clapped when they saw Superman and Spiderman enter the room, and they gave them treats. Fantastic night.

And now it’s Finkday. And dress-down day at school. And the last football game. And payday. Allllll rolled into one. Go ahead and beat that, whydon’tya.

Hey, looky here what I got in the mail yesterday. Look out, family. New cake experiences forthcoming.

The author, Meg Ray, chef and owner of the pastry shop in San Francisco where these treats are created, says she has a “cup of coffee and a slice of cake for breakfast every morning.”

Wouldn’t have to ask me twice.

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Thank the gods for Akismet. Not only does it protect bloggers from idiot comment spammers, but also protects them from idiot comment spammers’ bots. Can you imagine hitting hundreds of blogs per day and thinking up this stuff?

For a free plugin — heck, even if it came with a price — this is probably the single best thing out there. In February, RtB will be four years old, and I can’t recall even one spam comment sliding through. Makes me wonder why some major sites (many of them entertainment oriented) don’t take advantage of this script. I see a lot of comment spam on articles.

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We open in nine days.  Monday night marked the beginning of run-throughs at rehearsal. Gotta get the performers used to connecting the dots. On the readiness scale, we’re about halfway. Three more weeks oughta do it.

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We pick up the Finkmobile today, in its half-repaired state. I wonder what it’ll look like. Probably about the same, but without the fender grinding against the front tire. Hopefully, anyway.

Halfway to the weekend, yay. Hey, RtB fiend Suzanne will be in the States for a couple of weeks. Hope to enjoy a phone call with her while she’s in sunny Michigan.