Last week. Yes, last week I was tired. I went to work every day, performed work-related tasks that generally involved writing things (they should not have been creative non-fiction pieces, but they were - sigh). After eight hours of that, I walked home. Earlier in the week, I cracked open fact-filled books about the Warsaw Jewish community from 1850-1939 and the horrendous conditions of gulags from 1940-1942. At the end of the week, I edited and revised my story about my bubbe. On Friday at work I wondered around aimlessly and people asked me what I was doing and I replied, "I'm not sure." So I took Friday night off after I went to the library and obtained a book about Jews in displaced persons camps in Austria that some douche bag out in the wrong place on the shelf so I could not find it the last two times I went to the library. Anyway, I worked on my literary criticism/research paper portion on my thesis all day yesterday. In the evening, I took a break and had dinner with a friend who came up from DC this weekend because her aunt is dying. We ate in the waiting room at Bellevue hospital. Husband and I were only there for 45 minutes because he had bought tickets for us to see a play that night, which brings me to the subject of this post.

When he decided to see Stuffed and Unstrung, it was because he noticed an ad in a magazine. "Want to see some adult Henson production?" he asked me. We are big Muppet fans, so I agreed. He bought the tickets without reading what the show was about. I was surprised when we arrived at the theater that there were no programs. It turns out because we were not seeing a Muppet play: the show was Muppet improv.

Damn, I was excited. It was a very funny show, too. Not every day do I get to see three rabbit puppets muff diving in prison. Or a Muppet controlled by a random member of the audience interviewing for a position as a mohel. It was just the break I need.