Improv Improv Improv

I’m improved out. No, scratch that. Doesn’t make sense. I’m “improvisationed” out.
The improv guru Keith Johnstone was teaching a four day class and I had signed up for it. I had to take Thursday and Friday off to attend. No big deal.
After the Thursday class, I went and attended my regular evening improv class.
After the Friday class, I went to the late night Theatresports.
After the Saturday class, there was a party for a bunch of improv people. Lots of fun and discussion of improv.
Today, the class wasn’t in the morning so I went on a 24 km run. I had to get up at 7:30 for it, which meant I only had four and a half hours of sleep. A large bottle of Coke was my best friend for the afternoon.
I’m really tempted to skip dinner and just crash.
The workshop was great. I did get to be beat up by a rabbit in a karate suit. Mr. Snuggles soon became my master and led me into a karate competition where I was against Timothy the Bear. I won and my Sensei decided I could get a disciple of my own, and introduced me to a horse.
Keith knows a lot, and his advice is good for life in general. (Improv: It’s not just for theatre anymore.) I’ve taken extensive notes, and I’m glad they weren’t stolen from their spot next to my waylaid brownies.
I reported the robbery to the police. They gave me a number and everything. I’ve done my part to make the crime statistics accurate in this city. And in the harsh light of day I found some damage. There is a little plastic nib against the driver’s side window which is now bent outward. I have no idea as to its purpose, but it shouldn’t be that way.