voices underwater

I don't know why but I feel a little depressed today. I don't know if it's because the play I was working on closed last night or if it's because I didn't feel as much like a part of the group as I wanted to when we struck the set after the show or if it's because the boyfriend of one of the actors (a ruggedly handsome straight man) didn't respond to me the way I hoped he would (though I'm not for certain how I hoped he would respond to me) or if it was because the projection designer -- for whom I ran the projections -- when I told her I was assigned to be her helper for the strike said, "Oh, no, JDJB, you should go home and rest for a long time!" (which I'm sure she meant as some sort of compliment but it felt like a brushoff) or if it was because when we were rolling black paint on the white floor to put the theater space back to its original state I ended up with paint that wasn't completely mixed and so it didn't cover as well as other people's rollers did or if it was because I left amid the others' bittersweet goodbyes only saying so long to a couple of people (because I had only been working with them from tech rehearsal on, so I really wasn't as much a part of the group as the rest of them) -- and it didn't seem right to insinuate myself on their gatherings (I certainly wasn't being invited into them!) so I slipped out, came home, S1 was gone so there was nobody to chat with except for Timmy (and our conversations are usually about him wanting food, wanting to be let out, or wanting the bathtub faucet turned on a crack so he can get a drink of fresh tap water). So I had a beer, looked over some comments S1 made on my chapter four, then went to bed. Timmy joined me (oh, yeah, and "Rub me.") and as I lay there rubbing I started crying a little bit, which kind of surprised me, but it felt right. End of story.