things finally got hard.

Opening night is this Friday.

ANXIETY.

We might not have publicity posters. The floor may not be painted. The lights are definitely going to be crap, and we have a nonexistent closet.

Last night I dreamed that my costume designer was trying to talk me into changing all of the clothes into dresses made out of 2-liter Sprite bottles. And I was agreeing with her. My dream-self thought it was the best idea ever. My dream-self also thought that the play was secretly about saving whales, though.

Despite the fact that it seems like my designers are out to get me - death by frustration is not a pleasant way to go - I think this may actually be a good show. I think. I hope.

I CAN'T TELL ANY MORE.

Friday I was so tired I fell asleep while walking. I tripped over a curb and woke myself up, then got home, and slept for twelve hours.

My props person is criminally incompetent, so I gotta go buy whipped cream, a baby monitor, and frozen peas.

I love theatre.