My admiration for people who can write eloquent, witty and sometimes heart-rending blog entries during exhausting times is now boundless. I get busy, and all I want to write, when I want to write at all, is: Aaaaaaaaargh.
What to say, really? I love the Pumpkin Patch; the folks out there this year are especially awesome and help me get through the busy days when I'm literally singing my head off for 5 or 6 hours at a time. "I'm my best self out there," I said to J. recently. "Hardworking, don't complain, funny, outgoing..." It's true, too. Even on the rainiest days, and we've had some doozies this year, it's almost always fun, with a strong pinch of we're-all-in-this-together thrown in.
Rehearsals are...hard. I find that the way I work and the way that this company works don't necessarily gel, but I am learning so much and I will come out of this stronger and wiser. And that, my friends, is the upside to contract work: I will come out of it. The end is in sight, and I will move on, though to what is unclear as of yet. Joblessness lurks perilously close these days as my theatre contract ends November 11th. There are many things to worry about, but at least the good thing about being busy is that I don't have much time to worry, and when I fall into bed I sleep almost immediately.
Enough moping. It's a perfect Autumn night out there: clear, windy, cool, with lovely scattered leaves underfoot and a haunted moon overhead. I'm home from rehearsal and I need to get out into the night air and head over to Mom's to pick something up. I'll let the night clear my head.