The main action of the dream was taking place in the few hours before curtain, when everyone was dressing, curling their hair, and putting on makeup. The pace was frantic and we were all scrambling to get ready. I had been forcibly strapped into a very tight corset, stockings, and a black off the shoulder evening gown. I had my makeup on and I was wearing deep red lipstick that I kept touching up. But I needed help with my hair and couldn't find my sheet music to give to the pianist. Everyone was so busy that I was having trouble getting help. In the end, I was stretching the limits of the cord of a curling iron to try to do my own hair in front of a mirror that was a few feet away from the electrical outlet.
It reminded me a bit of my old vaudeville days at the Gaslighter Theatre. Nursing School is almost over. Am I the proverbial Fat Lady Who Sings?
Image:
http://collectiononline.chrysler.org/collections/OBJECT_edit.asp?id=23935&page=1
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