The SIZE of the theater will make a huge difference, too. I have worked in theaters with professional tech rooms, a great sound and lighting cage (it is literally caged in so that it can be locked and protected when not in use - some of the non-automated controls are in there, as well as the power switches for a lot of stuff), a nice green room with separate dressing rooms and big mirrors, etc. And then there was the little local theater I acted in. OMG so different.
I enter the back door an hour before the house opens. Cheryl is half in costume, smoking on the back steps. She blows smoke at me as I step over her, and I "accidentally" kick her a little, being careful of her costume. The door leads into the backstage area, where I nearly trip over a banana tree that is supposed to be on stage by now. Wendy, the stage manager, is swearing at a prop that has come apart - she's the only backstage tech on the show, her husband Ron does lights and sounds from the booth behind the audience. The room is cramped and crammed full of props and chaos. I step over some loose wires, collect my mic, and head downstairs to the ladies' dressing room.
There are costumes flung everywhere. I claim my usual corner and dig out the dress that I have to wear for the first scene. I get the undergarments on, including the tights and the fishnets (yes, both, bare legs look WHITE onstage, and fishnets over bare skin looks horrid). I'm sitting in my bra and tights when the director runs in, prompting his daughter, the heroine, to scream at him. She's not quite finished getting dressed.
He ignores her. "Has anyone seen Renna?" He's out of the room without waiting for an answer, yelling at Cheryl, who enters the room to retouch her makeup and finish getting dressed. It takes me 15 minutes to put my face on - I'm fast - and another 5 to get my wig situated. I pin the mic onto my tights, tape it to my face, and put on my dress. Renna shows up at 10 minutes to house and ignores the director's ranting as he goes upstairs to change. He's the lead, he's not really in trouble. And he's always this late.
"Has anyone seen my fucking eyelashes?" Cheryl digs through a makeup kit the size of a tackle box. Beside her, Apryl is applying blackout to some of her teeth and fake brown tobacco stains to the rest. I grimace and then go to apply blush to my husband, who refuses to do it himself. This is a melodrama. We go to greet the audience as they come in, then at 5 minutes to curtain we all go to our places. I have a half hour before I go onstage, but immediately after my first appearance I have a 30 second costume change, another couple of scenes, and I have to help with set changes.