I've decided that driving is depressing. Yesterday I made the marathon trip to Gulf Shores and back. Leave at 4 AM; get home at 9 PM. Not fun. For whatever reason the trip tends to depress me. Maybe it's because I get so tired.

Do you ever drive on the highway and think, "If I had a bad wreck I wouldn't have to go to that meeting (make that phone call, talk to that person)." I guess the fact that I realize how ridiculous that sounds after I think it is the difference between serious depression and a bad mood. If I were seriously depressed, I would consider it more.

I really hate looooooong drives. But there are many more in my immediate future. It's a good thing I'm such a happy person.

Oh yeah, another thing I meant to add about Sweeney Todd. This is mostly for Winston I guess. Michael Cerveris is a spitter! When we did Sweeney at Bradshaw, Winston played Sweeney Todd. The other Assistant Director and I made fun of how much Winston would spit during the show. We sat in the orchestra pit to run sound during rehearsals before the orchestra joined us. We would hide under the overhang to stay dry when Winston/Sweeney came to the edge of the stage. We joked about bringing an umberella; I can't remember if we ever did. Well, Winston, your spittle was profuse, but it was no where near Broadway standards. I think the front row was soaked after the first two songs. I actually saw Patti LuPone flinch once when he sprayed like a surfacing humpback whale!