Ergh.

I'm feeling a bit off today. Maybe my body and heart are starting to realise that LISPA is over - that this isn't just another term break, and it really is finished. Maybe it's just the frustration of the 9-5 office worker on a Monday morning. Maybe it has to do with not taking care of myself before others (which I'm realising more and more is sooooo important).

It's also possible, counterintuitive though it may be, that this mostly nameless frustration and anxiety has to do with plans becoming a reality. This past weekend I booked flights to Portugal from 28th Sept until 10th Nov, as did Cecile, which means that we really are going to do this show. (It sounds like Martha's on board as well, though I haven't talked to her, and I can only hope that Aram will follow suit in his own sweet time.) Diogo's trying to line up some workshops, as well, which means that we'd be teaching when we weren't rehearsing, and potentially earning a good amount of money - certainly enough to pay our (minimal) living expenses and then some. Exciting, of course, but now that it's actually happening, all the butterflies of will-it-happen have translated a bit into what-have-we-gotten-ourselves-into nerves. Also part of the ticket-booking frenzy: Ana's been talking to me about coming to Madrid for a weekend to see her, and I booked my coach to Amsterdam to meet up with Janna, then to Brussels to see Katie for the week from the 17th til the 24th. And if I know what's good for me, I'll book my flight back to Minneapolis today, or tomorrow. (Or the day after. Anxiety lends itself to procrastination.)

Things are falling into place in the way I hoped they would. So why do I feel so malcontent?