It's times like this...

I feel like ranting, but it's really all so minor and it's no ones fault, but I'm just so TIRED.
(So, how is it that you had time to muse on the careers of middle-aged movie actresses? Shut up!)
Directing thirteen-year-olds really burns up fuel, whatever stores of emotional or physical energy you have...
The Schola is the same way in some respects, with some even younger children, of course, but because it is elective, there are no soul-suckingly sullen participants; and while I really fray my cords by the end of a season, my physical exertion other than singing is running up and down the 2 1/2 stories to the loft, demonstrating and leading them in some full body stretches and warm-ups, and from time to time popping out from behind the console and up onto the risers to exhort or intimidate at closer range.
This was brutal, physically.
But I think I learned a great deal from it, I think my own acting will improve, or at least my ability to articulate my thoughts on acting and performing, and even, because of the nature of the piece, on Christianity.
My expectations have been both raised and lowered, strangely enough. I'll try to put down some thoughts on that some time.
But the whole experience has left me in lousy shape going into this ordination (and the al fresco Memorial day Mass at the cemetery, then several weddings and other "big" [i.e. with "clients" rather than worshippers,] Masses, and the chant intensive, and the colloquium after that!) and everything is going wrong.
And yes, everything going wrong, (or in some cases, merely not as expected,) is minor, really, really, really MINOR, but.... I'm on the verge of tears, I'm so tired I'm being unreasonable, (with myself, most of all.)
St Dymphna, come to my aid...