I’m vibrating with impotent nervous energy. The posters aren’t here yet, and neither are the coasters. It’s hard for me to realize that this is just a thing happening and that there are solutions. All I want to do is grind my teeth and will things to be perfect. As a temporary solution I made business cards with our logo on them and I’ve been passing them out to strangers and people I vaguely recognize from college. Erin and Carrie are in route from NYC, and Abbi is in the air from Indiana. Carrie just texted me “We are stopping at the NC aquarium to see the penguins really quickly since we got such an early start.” The show is in 4 hours, they’re trying to kill me.
Nothing is wrong, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm being chased by something scary. There is a great article about us in the City Paper, Skirt magazine featured us, and I’m looking forward to our Planned Parenthood and Center for Women benefit shows. I’m out talking to people about the show but without the posters, coasters, and fliers, I feel impotent. I feel like I can’t relax and enjoy being back in Charleston because I confuse teeth grinding and fretting with productive activities that might result in more tickets sold.
I also have this nagging feeling that I should figure out what I’m doing on stage for 20 minutes. I have 20 minutes of material, but I don’t know how it fits together and I’ve created a unique set of circumstances where I don’t have the luxury of figuring it out. The reviewer is coming opening night. Instead of listening to old shows, or writing out material or set lists I’m just hitting the refresh button on the fancy website that lets me see in real time how many tickets we’ve sold. As of 30 seconds ago, 50.