February 16th, 2001

self portrait (escher)

I must be insane.

Yesterday, I stayed up all night and into the day compiling music to turn in for paper tech. By the time that rolled around today, I was pretty well exhausted. Brain wasn't functioning well enough to locate my shoes, so I wore slippers to rehearsal instead, which only served to tire me out further because walking without my orthodic inserts is awkward and painful. (my feet will hurt all week from this)

So, what do I do when I get home? Do I flop immediately down on the bed? No. I call around looking for people to hang out with. Big deadline's behind me, so it's time to be social for a few hours, and maybe catch up on some money work in the morning before going back to the play.

...but everyone's busy, or requires that I drive too far (which I'm in no condition for). So I watch some television, and shut my mind off.

An hour later, the sheer pointlessness of it all gets to me, so I go to bed. The moment I lie down, there are a dozen important things I should be doing with my time, and I stare at the ceiling wishing they would go away. Time passes. I give up and crawl out of bed.

Nothing is going to get accomplished tonight. I've been up for too long, I'm just not productive. But I have to run in circles anyway, because some horribly obnoxious part of me doesn't accept that.

We're fighting a similar morale issue on the one-act right now. Rehearsals have gotten less productive, so I'm forced to schedule more of them, which in turn further diminishes their value.

I need to break out of this cycle. Now.
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