...

The straw that broke the camel's back...This play is the straw and I'm the camel, in case the reference wasn't clear. I've reached a point of exhaustion that borders on indifference. I'm numb. To have reactions, to get angry, to shout, protest and threaten, you have to have some emotions left...and I don't. I'm drained. This play drained me. First, the connection to my father. Then, the actors, whose often superb portrayal of the characters has turned me into a sentimental wreck. And now this. I think that in our 14 days on this miserable stage we've had about 5 rehearsals without technical incidents. We figure out one thing and another breaks down. I thought we were safe. I thought we were prepared to face the crowds. I was wrong. 20 minutes into the rehearsal tonight we had a new sound problem: new strange sounds, like paper being crumpled near a microphone. Everything shut down. We turned on the lights and Matthew proceeded to figure it out. What could it be this time? Not the mics: Karl checked them. Not the cables: I just bought 10 new ones. Not the speakers: we solved that one last week. No. This time it was the soundboard itself.

I give up. I can't fight this room anymore. I imagine four months of work, all these extraordinary people's energies destroyed by budget cuts, by the fact that the university has money to buy equipment but not to maintain it. Ok, so we solved this new problem today. What about tomorrow? What about opening night? I started crying in Fletcher tonight after everyone left...pulled myself together a little when Ellie came back...got home and cried some more. I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to pull the plug, but I can't do this to the people in the cast, the crew, Susan...I understand a show tanking because the actors are weak, or the writing is terrible. But to jeopardize a play because everything you work with is held together with tape and a q-tip is ridiculous. Can I take an opening night where the lights go up in the middle of the show and Matthew runs from the sound booth to the stage to figure out what's wrong this time? I don't know. For the time being, this is me, signing out.