Refresh my memory: have I mentioned this? In case not: We open tomorrow night.
Let me try that again, smiling: We open tomorrow night! Yay!
Yeesh.
It’s at this point that I start to ask: Why, exactly, do I put myself (and others) through this? Everyone is tense, everyone is nervous, everyone has a long list of things to accomplish in the next 36 hours. It’s also at this point that we begin to ask silly questions: Is the show still funny? Where are the weak spots? What would happen if I disappeared on a bus to Mexico? (Which is only silly because I hate buses.)
Yes, I’m sure it will all be fine. And I know it will be funny–with all the hams in our little group, “funny” just happens. And I know I’d go even crazier if I didn’t have something to occupy my spare time. (I’m like a dog that way: my destructive tendencies grow in direct proportion to my level of boredom.) And in the end, I suppose it’s all the tsoris that goes into it makes the opening night cocktail all the more refreshing and the ulcer somehow less, well, ulcerating.
But honestly, if I weren’t such a complete klutz, I’d probably take up woodcarving instead.
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