Hanging about...

Day of the production. Lots of hanging about. Watch a run of the play at 11am. Rachel, I think, is amazing. It's in good shape. Nothing for me to do except act the class clown - a role I've spent my entire life perfecting. Lee and Rach have had to do all of the hard work; writing this thing was the easy bit and they've turned it into a piece of theatre. There's a certain irony when Rach eats a huge hot dog mid-afternoon. I settle for x2 little boxes of veggie sushi. Mr Green doesn't eat anything. Even when directing he's 'method'. I don't think my presence helps much so I skip off, during the lull before we can actually get in the space, to change out of one set of black clothes and into another. I pick up some insignificant, consumable gifts for the two people I'd like to continue to work with. Pre-show, several people tell me I look worried, stressed, a little bit confused. I wonder why that is?

And woosh. It's been, it's gone. Another transitory chapter amid the ephemeral nothingness that is life as a playwright. Not sure I will ever leave a mark. But I like the way it makes me feel. Sometimes.