I have to run into the store, fifteen minutes until closing. At the stoplight I notice, and everything I am feeling all in one burst sprays over me: dread, excitement, anxiety. I'm not ready. Maybe I am. But then maybe feeling ready is actually trickery and this confidence is going to knock me off my feet and oh my gosh I am really doing this? My piece is the worst of the whole bunch. And I am the director. I am the director! So I get a pass. Right? But it works, it fits, I think it's meant to be? I think it doesn't even matter, because it's totally happening. Remember when I was little and I wanted to do this? Remember what I went to school for and didn't finish? Am I kind of feeling this really strange gratification of my own work? Are we allowing this now? Is this what having talent feels like? This is it.
But this is not just it. This is going to lead to more. This is already more than it.
I buy non-glare sheet protectors and envelopes and stamps. The store is closing.
Tonight is our official "dress rehearsal" and dare I say I feel ready? I feel so super lucky to be able to hear all the stories again before everyone else. What a privilege.
Thank you for all your encouragement along the way. I can't wait for you to see the show- whether you are in the audience because you got your tickets right here or because you'll get to see it online. I do hope my passion for it makes so much sense when it's all said and done. And even if it doesn't, I get it and it gets me and that means more than I could ever write or speak in any language.
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