Pounding Pavement Instead Defying Gravity

As soon as we learned the musical, Wicked was returning to Minneapolis for a three week run, my friend Sarah and I knew we were going. The last time Wicked was in town, we missed our chance to go and were instead forced to drive past the Orpheum at the end of work days with eyes that were, well, a bit green with jealousy. So back in May, when the tickets were just coming on sale this time around, I watched my email updates like a hawk and managed to nab front row tickets for this past Tuesday night’s performance.

Even in May, we knew the trip would be a push. To be honest, any sort of travel that doesn’t involve taking an extra day off of work always constitutes a push. But extra days off haven’t been the most feasible this year so on Monday after work, I set off on the 5 ½ hour drive to Sarah’s place, arriving around 11:30 pm. Yawn!

But the trip was well worth it. There was time to catch up with Sarah and get some well needed shopping in. And Wicked, forgive the pun, was wonderful! I’d seen the show a few years ago in London and loved it, but I admit I was a bit apprehensive since it was the touring show and frankly, the last few touring shows we’ve seen haven’t been great. But everything was phenomenal about this production: the costumes, the set, the singing, the acting. It was the kind of show you want to keep going and going.

Now I’m home. And tired. And a little underwhelmed.

A grand total of 11 hours on the road in less than 48 hours seems to have drawn out any sort of creative spark that might have been dwelling inside of me. There’s been a lovely lull in deadlines for the last week and a half and it’s been easy to dive into that lull, to look forward to evenings spent in front of the Netflix du jour instead of pounding away at my laptop. But with a few projects vying for my attention, it’s time to snap out of it. While my body calls for rest and rejuvenation, my life calls for a return to work. Heigh ho, heigh ho. Maybe I should try defying gravity while I’m at it . . . .