Opening Night Revisted

I love Opening Night. And I hate it. I love the anticipation of showing off for my friends. I hate the idea that I could quite possibly completely fuck up.

I have these dreams sometimes. I'm back in High School or College and it's either Tech Week or Opening Night of a show that's been rehearsing for weeks. I have the lead. And I know NONE of the lines. And invariably, there's dancing involved. Don't know any of that either. And the pervasive feeling is this: I'm so excited about this show, but so disappointed and scared that I didn't prepare.

So, there's always this little tickle in the back of my brain telling me I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm going to fuck up huge. Keeps me on my toes. It's a sick addiction.

Well, anyway, Monday went wonderfully. And I was even presented with flowers. FLOWERS, people. Do you KNOW how long it's been since I got flowers on an opening night from a friend/family member/boyfriend? College.

And I don't even remember what show.