To move about the world as a functional adult, eventually one must eventually learn how to say no. One decides what kind of person one is by first understanding what kind of person one is not.

“Am I meant to get an MBA and rise through the ranks of corporate America?” “No, I’m going to intern for a Hungarian juggler and then spread his craft throughout American community centers.”

“Do I believe in God?” “No, but I occasionally believe I am God.”

“Am I meant to marry the Ghanian artist that plays intramural soccer?” “No, but that was a fun summer.”

And so on.

Saying no is also a necessity for leading a balanced life between work, art, and socializing. If one has a gargantuan meeting the next day, one should probably say no to that fourth tequila shot, even if the transient offering it has been incredibly courteous during the two hours you’ve both been waiting for the bus.

Which brings me to production management.

The job, once boiled down, consists of shepherding the communication between cast, crew, designers, and administration that makes a show possible. Inevitably, you have a great many people asking you to do things because, as the hub of information, few people other than you know what’s going on with everyone else and how an action could have repercussions for an actor, the marketing department, and/or the house manager. You end up saying “Yes” more than you’d like, and probably more than is good for you. You say yes to tracking down a free piano in Skokie (thanks, Beth!). You say yes to making contact with an elusive assistant director, who’s somewhere in the UK but available only on Facebook between 3 a.m. and 7 a.m. Central time. You say yes to writing the weekly blog, because the marketing director is a benevolent dictator and you have many wishes to stay on her good side.

All jesting aside, sometimes the job is to say yes, no matter how absurd the task (or abundantly necessary, oh Marketing Presidente para Vivo). Because at the end of the day, this stuff needs to get done.

And I say no to incompetence.

—Caitlin P.