Drake Diaries

After my recent bout of writer's block, I decided I'm going to take a break from writing about my random thoughts for a while. Instead, I present to you...

Drake Diaries:

A series of moments in everyone's favorite theatre building

as written by... well, me.

Are you excited? I know I am. They'll range from beautiful narratives, to quirky comedies, to soap opera style dramas. Here's one from last night:

Drake Diaries: "Snowfall"

It's early January, and it is snowing. Ordinarily this wouldn't seem so special, but the ground hasn't been this white since Christmas. Without the snow, the bitter cold and sharp winds seem a little too cruel.

The tables that sit outside the box office are all empty, save one. That's where I sit, gazing thoughtfully out at the newly-frozen river, watching the snow drift downward in little white clumps. It's nearly dark, and everything beyond the glass in front of me is cast in a purplish glow-- from the deep indigo of the trees by the riverbank, to the eerie lilac gray of the cloud-covered sky. Beyond the trees I can see a string of headlights: commuters fighting their way home through the rough weather.

A couple people walk by, snapping me out of my reverie. I check the time: five minutes until six. I sigh, wishing that I'd had a bit more time to slow down before diving back into motion. From classes in the morning, to work in the afternoon, to rehearsals in the evening and into the night... I barely have time to blink before I'm onto the next task.

Three minutes to six. I better get going.

I make my way down the stairs to room 107. As I walk in, I feel a small pang of guilt as I realize that the other ASMs are nearly done setting up already. I drop my bag and my coat on the wooden bench by the door and I immediately begin to help. Just as we finish setting up the chairs, Jimmy walks in and explains that he'd like the room to be arranged differently tonight.

Before he even gets the chance to apologize, the three of us begin to shift chairs and fold up tables. When we are done, I sink into my own chair to see what's in store for us. After Margaret explains what needs to get done right away, I glance over my shoulder out the window behind me to see that the snow is still falling. This is going to be a long night.