Tag Archives: meds

Tie Her To The Bed

25 Apr


Roughly 7 hours into a 12-hour Sudafed, pinched from Mr. Van Dan when I got to the theatre. 

…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 theatre career.


(…TMI isn’t a thing with us here. 

And aren’t you glad?)



On Fire

23 Apr


I’m running a temperature so high, I could prob’ly burst combustible  things into flame within 3 feet of me. 

…And my throat hurts.

…And my nose is all stuffy.

This all happened within the last three hours or so.

Until now I have made it through half the castie colds, and people’s at work successfully.  Even the ones I mack on and share sweat with, on stage.

I am on my 3rd Airborn before finally going to bed.

I refuse to have a cold on my fucking birthday.

…Or the entire final week of  the show.

…Or the auditions for the next one.

But I will admit, that at the moment, I feel like total crud.

…Which will be magically fixed by morning.

…Because I say so.

My skin hurts.

I want my pillow.

…At least the Airborn is the orange kind.

Like Tang.

…So I can be like a famous space-exploring astronaut.

…In my cold-med, drug-induced dreams.

So, suck it: cold!

I’ll be all moon walking in a minute! And you can’t come!


Baked & Sweaty

29 Nov


Am half baked on cold meds, backstage, with only bows left…my body a sopping mess of fever-sweat.

…Today was work and home and medicate and sweat and chill, and perform. I’ve nothing left…even to jot in ink.

…I beg your forgiveness, and instead extend the rest of what I’ve got to getting myself home and to bed.

It’s best for all. Trust me.


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