Oh, hey there, twenty after two a.m.! I'm just sitting here, writing work emails and pretending that my sore throat hasn't come back just in time for my trip. Y'know, as you do when you're a professional stage manager with a whole bunch of stubborn in her genetic code.

Now 3-5inches, within the five day window...

Dear self,

Where on earth did we put the one cent stamps? I don't want to use two postcard stamps on each card just because postage went up since we went to NYC.

Hurry,
Hannah

It's the on the ten day forecast, but still...

So, is it weird to be excited about the possibility of snowfall while I'm in Utah? Even when I already know I'll be standing in wait-list lines?

Hey. Hey-hey-hey. You wanna know what's the quickest way to send me off a rage cliff? Reply to an email, but don't answer every question.

Ahem.


Today I had the fanciest meal I've eaten since the *last* time I had a meal with the Artistic Director. Fantastic potatoes, excellent table bread, creamy cheesecake. Chicken was a little dry, but that's okay. I tried calamari for the first time. I also might've contributed to someone getting fired (or at least demoted from the VIP room), though it wasn't my fault that the waitress dropped my knife down my back while clearing my salad plate. (Thank you, manager who felt the need to offer to pay for dry cleaning. My $20 shirt appreciates that you think it would need such attention.)

I have cheesecake and pie in my fridge. 2016's leftovers are treating me well.

Things I've learned on my job: how to identify the sound of the theater's front door while sitting in the library on the other side of the wall; how quickly I can get to the lobby to intercept the patron who just walked in late

So, I'm pseudo-house managing tonight's show, because the actual HM is relatively new and took a seat in the house (not on an aisle, not on the back row) to watch the show ... and then late arrivals strolled in through the front door. And one had a cellphone they wanted to leave with the HM, in case of emergencies.

On one hand, it's nice. I always feel super-weird sitting in the house like a regular human patron, ready to watch a performance, like I don't spend 50% of my time in this building in a dark area elevated above the seating. On the other, the whole point of me being here tonight is for me to sit like a regular person, in a fancy opening night outfit, without having to put in additional effort. I'm glad my parents formed me into a responsible person, someone who will step up when they see something that needs to be handled, but man! it is sometimes a drag on the lazy muffin I wish I could be instead.

[Minus the specific details and phrase "lazy muffin", I feel I could've written this same basic blog post at any point over the last fifteen-ish years.]

"not on the wrong side of mortally wounded"

Hey there, 2016. I'm just sitting here on the couch, clearing out my sinuses by singing along to Broadway cast recordings (because I'd forgotten how much that sort of activity works for me), debating whether I should dose up on cough syrup again, and suddenly realizing that I haven't actually eaten dinner yet so maybe that's why I'm feeling foggy. (Hey, I had cheese crackers and creamy jalapeno. That's kinda like a meal...)

It's okay - I have fifty-one more weeks to figure out how to Adult.