April 30, 2026

Bright and cool. The lady on the TV promised rain, but she was wrong.

Ungodly rehearsal last night. Our substitute imagines that talking is the same as directing. He showed vulnerability to some of the more aggressive basses, who began a war of whispering and belligerent questions. To top it off, the bar we headed to afterwards closed as we approached. 

Finally realized that the sickish feeling I have is related to opening night, now 7 hours off. I cannot help. I can only hinder by sending our frantic vibrations--