The Mourning After

Oh, baby, I got so stupid last night. Opening night of the festival, free booze, free food. Put me in a situation where I'm nervous and haven't eaten, introduce booze, and watch the fucking fireworks. Hi, how are you? This is me.

I'm trying to remember what I said to everyone. I remember having individual conversations with people from my team. I remember having an exchange with Arielle Tepper. I remember bonding with my cast a bit -- which I've been dying to do because I've made a great effort not to say much during the rehearsal process. I like to have a good time, but this show means so much to me and I'm just trying not to get in anyone's way. Two weeks, man. If we had four weeks, I might let my hair down a bit in rehearsals, but with two weeks I just want to make sure it gets done.

Outside of rehearsals, though: wind me up and watch me go...

My jaw hurts this morning. Why the fuck is my jaw hurting?

Last night was the first night of the festival. My show didn't even open last night -- it opens next week. How in the hell am I gonna survive this month?