wasted day

written in my journal in my dressing room

Eight hours of rehearsal. How much time did I work?

About ten minutes.

And that wasn't even onstage. That was in the back of the house, practicing my fight. And the only reason we did that was because it had been two days since I had run the thing at speed, with a live person.

I made the best of it, though - grilled, watched several episodes of 30 Rock, Scrubs, and The Office, and tried my best to be social. Part of me wishes I could have been home in the "corporate apartment" doing laundry and watching the basketball game. But a job is a job, even if you're not properly utilized.