We broke patterns today. Big ones. The kind you purposefully spend four weeks building, carefully, painstakingly, with notes and everything.
At one point, J and I sat in the front seat of my car, parked a block away from the theater, and luaghed until we couldn't breathe simply because we told ourselves we weren't allowed to cry until midnight, and at this point it was only 6pm.
I took a shot of whiskey at 11am.
It's now 2am and I think the last time I felt this way was after the 24 hour play I did this summer. My body wants to pick me up and throw me against something sharp and pointy, me thinks.
What surprised me most? How positive and upbeat rehearsal was tonight. Everyone was encouraging, supportive, in a good mood. We laughed together on break and a musician in the band talked to me at break and said, "This is a totally different room from last night."
I have never veered so close to catastrophe before, so maybe I'm inexperienced in this phenomenon, but J said it today and maybe he was right: "Sometimes all you need is a little bit of terror."
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