I'm here, but not here. The lights are on but nobody's home.
I'm drained after 8 hours of solid rehearsal. The sheer cognitive load of trying to remember all these lines is taking its toll on me. It's only 8:50pm, but I've brought myself to bed early with the script loaded on my Kindle, a mug of tea on the bedstand and the intention of reciting this problem scene repeatedly until it sinks in or I crash out asleep: whichever comes first.
47 hours to go and I'm not yet ready for public performance. Someone please save me from the spotlight.
I'm totally detached from The Artist's Way and find I'm really missing it.