Feeling: released
Listening to: fans all a-whir
Reading/Watching: American Gods, by Neil Gaiman

Now that the show has opened (successfully) and we've gotten through the first weekend (and OH EM GEE for the first time, we broke the Second Night Curse), my tunnel-vision can finally subside and allow me to focus on other things.

Like how the final Harry Potter book is coming out next Saturday.

Like how the fifth movie made me really, really anxious to read the final book (and a bit anxious to molest Daniel Radcliffe, but erm...).

Like how my uncle's fianc�e is having her bridal shower the week after that.

Like how I need to buy a gift for said shower.

Like how we need to finish re-arranging the furniture in the guest room to make more space for mon coeur's new, bigger desk, which is yet to be purchased.

Like how eating comfort food at 10 or 11 p.m. after rehearsals, no matter how "starving" I am, has packed on five pounds according to the bathroom scale.

Like how "Dude, where did my credit card go? ...Oh, there it is. Thank you Chili's for not throwing away abandoned cards at all ever."

Like how I have finally mastered the art of crying on command for shows, and (as I knew it would) it has made my male friends suspicious of whether I have turned on the waterworks for dramatic effect in the past (I haven't, but thanks for all the trust).

Like how I haven't seen some of my closest friends in a long, long time.

Like how I never blog anymore, and that sucks more than a little. Especially since I recently surpassed 1200 entries, holy fucking Lord.

Like how recent worry-causing (and private-entry-causing) events have become non-issues, simply by the beauty of telling Bork the situation and his saying, "Yeah, so what?"

Like how I need to get offline and go get some of that fabled thing called "sleep" I've been cruelly neglecting for so many moons.

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