Friday evening is theatre time. We're off to see The Narcissist playing at the Sydney Opera House. I'm running ahead of time for once and phone those who are coming to schedule meeting up for dinner. Five minutes later I'm stuck in traffic - bloody rugby semi-finals! So after ordering over the phone I finally arrive to my first course sitting waiting for me. Dinner is good I think - but we have so much to catch up on that the conversation is the main meal.
The stage is bright - there's loads of images of our main character - a lot camper in the artwork than he is in character. Actually - there are way too many images of this character and I feel like getting up there and decluttering. A barrage of one-liners make us laugh out loud, a lot, but the delivery seems a little forced and I know these are actors playing their characters, for the most part. I'm enjoying the play with its decidedly gay themes and unpredictability, but I have to work on it too. I'm a little tired from a restless night at the hospital, but mostly unrelated to work, so I don't want to have to work on my evening's entertainment. Mind you - it's not incredibly cerebral. Not even close really - but perhaps I'm too demanding in wanting seamlessness. I want to be completely absorbed, but I'm not quite. I could actually spend more time chatting with the people we've come with as I really like them and we never get enough time together. But afterwards we're all too tired from big work weeks to do coffee/dessert, and the chat on the walk along the harbour will have to do for now.
A fun night out.
The play wasn't too bad either.
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