i just about started crying at work out of sheer gratitude. i have the privilege to sit in a beautiful historic theater, reading a book, while set builders are putting together Gypsy. i’m so happy here. the long and shitty days are really made up on these slower days where i can really soak it all in and appreciate it.

i’m currently running a show that’s a compilation of original plays by writers here in my city. it’s been so so stressful, so much trial and error and things learned, but also sooo much fun to do. all of the plays are so different and the directors have amazing vision for them and the cast is absolutely knocking it out of the park. i’m the booth tech, so running lights, sound, and projections but! doing this is making me want to write a play… but what would i write???

ok ok listen. this is about to be insensitive as shit and i’m aware. but! i’m 24 and child free by choice and it will remain that way. i am not a mother, i don’t feel very motherly despite people saying i am (just say i’m a woman and you can’t see me as anything but a mother) so i do not care about other people’s kids. no, i dont want a video of them tearing apart oreos. no, i don’t want to hear about how they’re tearing up your house. you’re just showing me all the reasons why i don’t want kids. not to say i’m rude to children, they are our future, but that doesn’t mean i need to act motherly to them. also, stop saying i’m this kid’s aunt. we’re barely friends.