To be or not to be … what was the question?

A little while ago, a friend asked me if I wanted to be in a play.

Thanks to the ‘I wonder what would happen if‘ attitude I’ve adopted during my 20’s, I thought about it for half a second before saying “fuck it, why not”.

The Midult

I was expecting to feel nervous during the first rehearsal but I wasn’t expecting to discover that my high school science teacher was also in the play.

To add to the surprise, the director happened to be his mum, so the highlights of my adulthood have so far involved Thursday evenings in the library with my former GCSE science teacher and his family.

Me: “When I grow up I want to be a Hollywood sensation”

Also me: “I still live with my parents”

My favourite part of the process was leaving work after playing ‘office worker’ from 9-5 to head to rehearsals and play ‘Edwardian bitch’ for a couple of hours.

Me:

Also me: “My boyfriend is coming tonight so if you could all work extra hard to make me look amazing, that would be great.”

Having sweated my way through three performances (sorry to the costume company), it’s easy to underestimate how anxiety-inducing it can be.

Hats off (literally) to people who perform for a living.

Resting Edwardian Bitch Face.