Roughly 7 hours into a 12-hour Sudafed, pinched from Mr. Van Dan when I got to the theater.
…Forgot my drugstore at home, thank God he travels with one as well.
The up side is: it got me through the show. The down side is: I may never sleep again.
It is currently 2 am.
…I could easily mentally run an Olympic stadium, 40, 50, a lot of times, right now…if my brain had legs. Problem is, the body is fucking TOAST, beyond exhaustion..but can’t rest because I won’t shut up. Actually, verbally, shut up. My face hurts from talking so hard…just even in the car on the way home, with Ma (who had come to see the show tonight.)
…You know how sometimes, if you work in retail or something, your face can be tired at the end of the day from forcefully smiling so much?
It’s like that.
Only its my whole body.
…Which, (because drugs at this level act mostly like glorified novocaine), I won’t know the full damage of until tomorrow, when I get the incredible come-down crash…roughly about when my alarm will be going off for work.
So that will be special.
…But I made it! Through the fever, and demonic amounts of unquenchable thirst, and all the yelling, and fighting, and crying, and big Jewish mama-ing.
…And it was even fun.
Thanks Putti, for the “pick-me-up.”
…Off to tie myself to the bed now for my own good.
…At last, a chance to write some of these “extra curricular” bedroom props off, towards theatre!
“No, I swear! I used ‘em as part of a post-show process in prep for tomorrow! Honest!”
Who am I kidding?
As if this would be the first time I doubled naughty props, and my theater career.
*Pft*
(…TMI isn’t a thing with us here.
And aren’t you glad?)
~D
