Lying on a Cloud of Pretty Darned Good

Went to the opera with the Pirate this afternoon. Saw Il Trovatore. The music and the singing were fabulous. A cast of really first-rate performers who weren't drowned out (as the cast of La Cenerentola was last time) by the orchestra. The basses were notable, as was the woman who sang the part of Azucena. The set design and stage direction, however, SUCKED OUT LOUD. I want the sets of an opera to facilitate my understanding of the story. I most certainly do not want to spend the entire first act wondering when they're going to explain the giant horse's head or the piano with a bite taken out of it, or why the last scene seemed to have been played from the filthiest public toilet in Scotland. The staging and set design were so awful that the Pirate and I bitched about them all the way from the opera house to Haight Street where we went for Ethiopian food. And then we started talking about religion and felt much better.
The girls are gone for a couple of weeks and I'm already feeling at loose ends. I had a dream last night that I was suddenly rooming with everyone I worked with, and I woke up realizing that I need to set some better limits for my work group. I don't want them invading my home life.
For the next two weeks, I would like to finish up the writing portion of my novel. It's undergoing pretty major surgery, but I'm almost halfway done with that and am pretty pleased at it. I'll keep everyone who cares posted.
And I've just sent a short story over to Cliff for his critique. It couldn't be in better hands, as I know that he will read it with both a critical eye AND a kind heart (hear that? I'm counting on you! Firm but compassionate. So, get out your thesaurus and look up euphemisms for "sucks.")
And I miss all of you. A lot.