Dear horrible smell in my office: GO AWAY.
I can only stare at a list of options for photo call before my brain starts hurting (and it doesn't need as much prodding at the moment with the lingering eau du stink and febreeze stifling the air), so here I am.
I'm happy to report that I'm still not the MS1 stage manager, despite all evidence piling toward the other direction earlier in the week. That was a fun way to make a girl want a new job. (Sorry, but I'm not going to work a show in the evenings, tackle the annual awards banquet/show, AND coax the artistic director through another show at the same time. Not after a whole season of double-booking myself.)
I'm less happy to say that I've figured out how to get my ceiling to stop leaking...and it's to leave the A/C on at about 80 instead of my usual summer 74. Dear oscillating fan, I love you. Let's never part. (Apparently, the replacement part that will not only stop the leaking but allow me to no longer have a hole is on order. I hope it'll arrive before family does.)
Back to the photo list. I don't know why I stress about getting everything into the most efficient order. Someone always changes longer/faster than planned, so we jump order, then the whole system breaks down. My favorite photo call this past year was Littlest Angel, because the only costume change I had to pause for was shoe-related.