To’t again, come.

I was crushingly sad yesterday. I’m still a little hung over from that sad. I wondered at one point if this was perhaps a modified post-show blues. I performed a speech a few days before and I had a visceral jolt in returning to performing – the high, the pleasure of having Shakespeare’s words in my head and in my body. When I was so sad yesterday, I thought maybe it was just my body’s way of saying, “I missed that. When will we do that again? To’t again, come.”


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