white russian

personal

I’m standing in the midst of one of the busiest weeks of my life and everything around me is chaotically flying by.

Six months ago, when we received word that our show would be coming to a close at the end of the year, I was relieved, confused, elated, and a touch fearful. “Where am I going to go after this?” I thought. And as we’ve crept closer to December 30th, I’ve continued to ask myself the same question, but in a different context…Where am I going to go after this? What new adventures are awaiting me in 2018? How high am I going to fly in the next chapter?

I’ve remained eerily calm over the past few weeks as this day approaches. I was unexpectedly cast in a show that runs over these final shows at CATS, which has distracted me from really feeling the true reality that, in a week’s time, most of my world will be very, very different. Over the next four days, I’ll be alternating back and forth between performing and dressing; a challenge I am grateful for, but exhausted by — especially on the heels of the Christmas holiday.

Despite its blessings, CATS has brought my company many moments of frustration and depletion — we have spent most of our days here running on empty. So you can imagine that everyone around me has been strongly mixed about Saturday’s inevitable arrival. On the one hand, we won’t be exhausted anymore. On the other, our bank accounts will start to run on empty. We’re starting to realize the people who have seen us more than our family and friends over the past eighteen months won’t be so easily accessible every day. But the people we’re happy to have some space from won’t be either. I am so ready for a change, but all the same, I cannot wrap my mind around saying goodbye to this chapter of my life.

I feel like a White Russian — one part Kahlua, one part vodka, one part heavy cream. Instead, I’m one part eager, one part heartbroken, one part anxious. I’m a very strong, well-made, evenly proportioned White Russian when I think about my first Broadway production coming to a close in four days.

Perhaps I’ll drink White Russians at the closing night party.

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