Ketchup

So I know it's been a full month since I've written, and I apologize, in that rather self-centered bloggy way, for not updating you all on the intricacies of my life more often. It's due to a combination of lack of time and a total stress-out. I still have no time -- in fact, I have less than ever -- but I'm starting to wriggle my way out of questioning every single one of my actions and back into a more healthy life outlook.

The time suck is of course, rehearsals; I'm now working only 28 hours a week at The Store, and 22 hours a week on The Winter Thing. Which adds up kind of quickly, as my complete exhaustion demonstrates.

That's also been kind of a major source of stress, because I care about this winter thing so VERY much. It's theater, it's Shaw, it's professional (although they don't pay me), it's with the OS, there are many, many ways I was terrified of screwing this up. It's taken me nearly these whole first couple of weeks to lose my shyness enough to interact with people while we're on breaks. But I am happy to say that I'm finally beginning to drop in and make friends. And contributions! I'm beginning to average one real contribution as AD per night (knock on wood!), aside from the assorted general tasks of assisting Kissums (our delightful stage manager), being on book and the occasional stand-in, and apparently giving clues by my body language.

Which I don't mean to do at all, but... see, Kissums and I tend to sit in the front row, her taking blocking notes and me on book, while we work on staging. The OS sits a couple rows back, so that she can see the stage pictures more clearly. Only semi-consciously, I seem to react to the blocking, nodding when I like something and cringing or shaking my head when I don't. It's about nine-tenths instinct, and while I occasionally notice that I'm doing it, I don't really do it on purpose or with definite intent. But the OS apparently notices, because she's begun saying things like, "Oh, this got the [petitechica] stamp of approval, it must be good." I hold the OS in such awe that it seems patently odd to me that she would care what I think of her stage pictures, but there it is. And very exciting it is, too.

Of course now the major source of stress is this decision I'm trying to make about grad school next year. Oh, if only money grew on trees, and also the exchange rates were a little better. But I'm starting to deal with that now too, and it helps that it seems to be very impressive to everyone (including the OS, the DD, the cast, and the parentals, who mostly tend to think I should go for it) that I got in in the first place. No final decision has been reached, but I have put my first reaction of blind terror far enough aside that I'm getting the tools to make the decision final. If that makes any sense.

Righty-oh. I had to get all that out, but now I must prep for my twelve-hour day tomorrow. By sleeping.