It seems relatively logical to me that the first full week of classes would lend itself to bringing out the most emotionally unstable side of me, as well as providing the most intellectually hostile and physically draining environment one could possibly fathom at this point in time.
Indeed.
I have survived the first seven days of what I expect to be the most taxing semester I've had thus far in my collegiate career. That, in itself, must be seen as some sort of accomplishment. If taking seventeen hours weren't enough, there's rehearsal and general (and always theatrical) insanity to surround my non-existent free time.
On that note: rehearsals are proceeding well, and I am excited for the production at large, along with all of the people I am gifted enough to work with. It is truly a joy to have people eager to allow me the space and freedom I need to be spontaneous, ridiculous, and totally distracted from everything else I don't want to have floating into a genuinely creative atmosphere. Maybe that sounds unintentionally odd, but this is one of my first performance experiences that is facilitating my desire for comedic expression and downright silliness in the midst of a genuinely great text. It's making me happy, and I'm not sure what more can be said about it.
Fricandeau.
The group of individuals I have spent most of my time with in the past two weeks are suddenly the people I care most about in the world. I have found a number of incredibly intelligent, compassionate, and honest human beings. I love them. I have so many people in my life so worthy of loving that, despite how tumultuous everything becomes, I am an infinitely lucky kiddo.
I may be depressed, but at least I'm grateful.
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