Ok, I officially suck at acting. Come to the play, but avert your eyes when I’m on stage.
Also, I’ve got a migraine, and vertigo, and I can’t seem to move without hurting myself in some assinine fashion. My daughter, whose run of South Pacific is entering its second week, is in a similar psychological state. My Beloved is aghast at how The Theatre is devouring the distaff side of his family.
On the plus side, since the director never dismisses us until moments before we have to vacate the building, the other cast members have gotten very adept at stripping and dressing me in five, ten minutes, tops.
Thanks for caring. It’ll all be over soon.
What? Your Beloved should count himself among the highly blessed! Not every man gets to live with two drama queen-bees at the same time ;-)