Okay, I have just realized that my last five posts have been about Oliver. Just Oliver. Nothing but that darned Oliver. It is taking over my life! I have had four dreams about Oliver during the course of this production. I can't remember two of them, but that's beside the point.
Oliver is taking me over. I am being consumed. Yes, I love theatre, but I don't love it THAT MUCH.
Is this normal? Are all young thespians swamped with thespianity their first production? Or is it just me??
Okay, Now that I have gotten that soulful, questioning rant out of my system, here is something Anti-Oliver. Non-Oliver. Un-Oliver-esque.

...God help me, I'm drawing a blank. Just white noise. Absolutely nothing. See, without things to complain about, my life is rather dull. (I have come to realize that at the end of this week, my social life will be, effectively, nil. Isn't that sad?) There must be something wrong with me. I must be totally out of whack. This is not unusual, mind you, but it is rather sudden...