I’m fatigued. Yeah, not like Olympic-athlete fatigued, but 3-kid-having-hosting-too-many-dinners-my-kids-are-bored fatigued.

Brief thoughts:

* I managed to make poached fish dry. The recipe was guaranteed to result in moist fish. It’s a gift, I tells ya!

* To balance that out, I made an orange cake with orange cream cheese frosting. That was moist. I’m guessing it snuck into the oven, sucked the moisture out of the fish, and gloated. It’s a gift, I tells ya!

* The baby spit up so hard this morning it came out her nose. Gross. That’s not a gift at all.

* My show is officially dead. The directors told me, after commissioning this thing, that it was “too big.” There was no effort to discuss what size they wanted. I am still heartsick about this, and too tired to try again right now.

* I worry that my opportunities, artistically, are drying up. This is a silly thing to think, of course, and totally fear-based. That’s my biggest gift, I tells ya.

And where there are gifts, there is cake. I’m off to raid the fridge for left-overs.