Guest Blogger: Emma Mueller

I was never one to sit still. I always tap a foot in the air while I'm sitting cross-legged. I twirl my pen while taking notes in a lecture and make typing motions with my fingers while trying to figure out what to write. But I surprised myself. I have done more sitting still in the last week than I have in my entire life, and it was nothing less than enlightening. 

The musical Annie and I have a long, and special history. At the age of seven, it was the first musical that I was in. It was produced by my summer camp, where roles were distributed by seniority; all the older kids got bigger roles. I was one of the youngest, so I was given the part of an ensemble orphan. I won't pretend like I wasn't upset - I wanted to be Annie. But I stuck it out for five weeks, and picked up my little broom from the back of the stage during Hard Knock Life and perfected my sweeping. That was my only part during the entire abridged version.

I sat on a bench by myself beside a winding staircase and several closed doors, where other 17-year-olds like me were pouring their hearts out in audition room. I smoothed my dark blue dress and twisted my perfectly curled hair in between my fingers anxiously. My right leg was crossed over my left, and my foot was tapping the air sporadically as if that would help ease the nerves. I looked at the clock and only 30 seconds had passed since I had last checked the time. 

It was Monday afternoon, and the dismissal bell had just rung. I tried to clear my head as I said goodbye to my friends who were going home to nap and study for the impending math final. But, my mind wasn't preoccupied with derivatives or integrals. Rather, it had shifted gears completely from student to director. As I walked into rehearsal, my brain was fully focused on the PAINT that was SPILLED ALL OVER THE STAGE AND THE FLOOR.