The Vocal Rest Conundrum

1 Dec

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You would think that a person, alone in a house all day, could easily dedicate themselves to a necessary “vocal rest.”  But if it’s “me” we are talking about…forget it.

…I mean, for shit’s sake, I talk back to the fucking television, so this is a whole “thing” I have to actually pay attention and make a point to adhere to.

18 hours of silence. From end of last night to 6 PM today.

Last night, the cold graduated to in-and-out laryngitis, less than mid-way through performance…so I knew what would therefore be expected of me today. And I knew how hard it would be. Cuz this time last year, I was put on vocal rest ‘tween the matinee and evening performance of a musical, and it pert near killed me.

…Mostly cuz I had to be where everyone else wasn’t, so I could actually stick to the plan. It sucked. All the laughing and gabbing I was missing out on, just cuz I was trying to be “responsible,” and things. The weird thing is: I’m totally “responsible”…except when I’m tired of it, and then: I’m not. And right now, I’m tired of this fucking cold.

…I’ve coaxed, and coddled, and medicated, and mothered it non-stop, doing all the things you’re supposed to. And, aside from actually leaving my house in order to you know, “make a living” and fulfill my contracts and things…I’ve been LITERALLY in bed, every spare minute between the two.

No hang time with the cast.

No drinks.

No last day with The BFF.

No Zoo Lights, or Christmas time shenanigans.

No singing in the car…

…And (though not through lack of trying), also: no sleep.

It’s been night sweats with tossing and turning, peeling, raw, red noses, unlimited supplies of snot manufacturing, and a slowly depleting voice. I don’t have a choice but to cater to it all and continue to babysit it in every waking moment. I don’t have a choice but to honey and lemon-dose my way to sugar-shock…or hot doddy with actual liquor for the next two hours, giving a dignified amount of time to wear off and sweat out the buzz before curtain tonight.

…And I CANNOT go outside…in the one day of sunshine we’ve had in forever…to take a walk.

Not even a little one.

Not even bundled up.

…I have to just lay here, administer gunk as needed, extricate it from my body as it is produced, and keep m’damn mouth shut.

All. Day. Long.

…I’m been up since 9:30…have been peeing hot tea, cyan pepper and lemon extract for three days, and the amount of interaction I “cannot” have with my festing of “Slings and Arrows” right now, is freakin’ killin’ me, people.

…It’s killin’ me.

~D

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