And these are thoughts I can barely stomach at 5:30 a.m. I mean, I got ooky watching this. Like, lose-your-appetite ooky.
Watch it all the way through — that is, if you don’t easily get woozed out. Even better: watch it full screen.
So last night at rehearsal, my mouth got ahead of my brain during a difficult passage in the music (that all were instructed to memorize), and I gave into a surge of frustration and annoyance. I accused the cast members of caring about everything in their lives except preparing for this show. It was dead silent in the room, but I’m sure I heard their thoughts: No, I’m just sitting here in your room at 8:30 at night when I could be doing a hundred other things — all because I don’t care about this show.
I’m sure it was spoken loud and clear in their cars on the way home. Nuts. Must rectify that tonight.
J’ever want to bonk yourself on the head for letting the emotions do the talking? Rat Fink, Rat Fink. What a donkey.
Happy Thurgsday, fiends — we’re almost to the weekend.
PS — I know it’s only Wednesday. Well, I didn’t originally. But I do now.