This is the part I hate the most, well, hate is a rather strong word, so perhaps 'dislike' would be more apropos: having to pack while still performing. Living out of bags and and boxes. Your mind half here and half home. But this is what we do each time we work out of town. And it never gets easier.
I've packed the few adornments that I always take with me to make each place a little more like home, so the apartment is sad-looking and empty. The place is a also mess with bags and suitcases strewn about, ready to go. Our building is downtown, in a semi-questionable area, so I don't want people to see me packing the car, yet, so it will have to wait until Monday when I set off for home. So, in between packing and cleaning we have the shows. A minor inconvenience. 2 today and 1 tomorrow, and that's it. Adieu, adios, bye-bye. Until next time, you hope.
Then it's back to pounding the proverbial pavement, as they say in our biz. Calling the agents and letting them know you're back and available. Sending copies of the reviews (the good ones, that is) to all your contacts: directors, casting directors, artistic directors. Applying for unemployment, if you qualify. And then it's playing the wait and see game.
So another one bites the dust, gets added to the resume' and onward and upward. Until the next one, if there is one.