Here’s the deal: you know how you get off on Friday night, heave a sigh of relief, and go have a beer (or 8) while hanging out and just “being” for two days…then Monday comes around and you grumble, as you get ready for work?
…Actors don’t get, “weekends.”
We don’t really get “Holidays” even.
…When the normal humans of the world are just starting to launch into a little well-earned R &R, WE are just starting the second part of the rest of our work week.
Rehearsals. Techs. Performances. Fight calls. Show prep. Hairdressing. Makeup. Warm-ups. Line-runs. Prop-checks. Bathroom share negotiations. Smoke-breaks. Nerve-shakes.
…Then add in a super-special-secret-awesome-BFF surprise…and you subtract even more sleep automatically…which is 3000% totally worth it…plus Sunday talk-backs, and post-show de-funks…then remind yourself that you promised a blog of some decent amount after two days of side-burnering it…and you have me: bleary-eyed, punching at my keyboard with little (if any) thought filter left at all.
I am tired. To put it bluntly.
I took all the “life ” that was offered to me this weekend, and used the flying fuck out of it. Down to the absolute last drop. And now I’m sitting here at 9:30 p.m., in my PJ’s, with a body and brain that is insisting it is actually 6 in the morning tomorrow already…because I am so not looking forward to the anti-energy I have to face that moment, that I’m already regretting it.
…Does that make sense to anyone?
…The insomniacs will get it, if no one else does.
…Anyway, with all that does come the satisfaction of a hard job, well done.
Our tickets sold 15% above projections this week, we’ve nearly broken even on full production cost with two weeks of performances left, word-of-mouth is super solid, we’ve four stellar reviews from the critics, and we already can’t wait to hit the ground running again, come Thursday.
It’s weird to miss performing a show as disturbing as this. But we do.
…Which means it matters, and is satisfying work, and is punctuated with a sense of accomplishment at the end.
Everyone should be as lucky with their work and art.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to tell myself that it’s okay to be in bed right now…even as my house has post-party residuals peppered all over the place in every single room.
The pick-up can wait.
I’ve earned a rest…an early feel of pillow at my cheek, and lights out, while maybe Netflixing something easy and happy and good until I conk out completely.
…Which will prob’ly be within the next five minutes.
I’ve earned these seconds of quiet, restful, peace.
…And so have my partners in crime.
Love you guys.
Happy end-of-weekend to you, friends.
~D