Auditions on Thursday night.

Controlled pandemonium could be a fair assessment.

My betraying AD and Cari did a super job of corralling everyone into submission.

By and large, I didn't feel we sat for vast swathes of time with no-one to see as they were all in with DG next door.

I expect I did over-read and under-read some poor people in a bid to keep the room occupied. So if you were one of these overworked individuals, apologies and thanks for your patience.

The night held a fair quantity of goosebumps, it must be said.

It never fails to impress me when people act - really properly act - in those dishevelled rehearsal rooms.

But then, now that we've penetrated the hallowed halls of Speirs whatever it is - Quay I think - as a consequence of The Amazing Weekend (TAW), it seems that NTS and Scottish Opera and GAMTA (and I'm still slightly mystified about the identity of this latter organisation) aren't so very much better off. Though they do sometimes have nice mirrors to reflect the shabbiness back at them. And a tad more space. And great coffee.

And now I feel rather like I'm holding my breath. This odd sense of the half done. I have one version of events in my head. And I'm hoping it will all shift and change about tomorrow when a whole bundle more properly acting people shuffle through the shabby doors for round two.

Wish them luck. Wish Mr G, Ms S, my betraying AD and myself luck.

For, as Mr (not Rufus) Wainwright said, we must make the best theatre we can.