I’m writing this letter from the battlefield. It’s Wednesday—well, early Thursday now—of Tech week and the show I’m working on opens Friday. I’ve slept 8 hours in the past 3 days. The paint in my hair is at least a couple of days old and I haven’t changed my clothes in a week. I can’t remember the last time I saw the costume designer without some sort of sewing in her hands. At least I’ve seen her—I asked the props designer to go find gaff tape a couple days ago and I haven’t seen her since.

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