Woke up at 7:00a to go to my job interview at Act-1 Personnel, where thy loved me. Went back home and back to sleep.
I've had a conversation with Nick, and one with Mike, and one with John Zamora about postponing the show for a week. I didn't know this was in anyone's vocabulary. Who ever heard of postponing a show for a week? Movies, yes. Theatre? They keep asking me what my thoughts are. My thoughts are that the show will be ready on Friday. They aren't going to get me to say that I think we should postpone the show. We shouldn't.
I will be so fucking mad if they postpone this show. No, what I'll really be is depressed.
I'm off to rehearsal now (at 3:30p.) I'm driving down there and waiting for Michael to get there so that we can rehearse and open on time.
I think a lot of what I write in this journal might be bullshit. I was thinking about it today while reading Catcher in the Rye. I feel like this Holden Caulfield cat is just so depressed all the time. Down on everything; hating everything. 'My life just isn't like that,' I tell myself. Is it? I am so positive in this journal all of the time. I am all-around positive, I guess, but I think one of the main reasons is that there really isn't anyone who can take my shit. We really shouldn't dump on our friends anyway (one of the reasons Andrew and I fought as much as we did). But I don't have anyone to dump on even if I wanted to.
It's times like these (when I feel like people in charge are making decisions that I hate hate hate) that depress me the most.