I wish to tell my immune system in a very stern voice: Now is not that time. I'm jumping into the next project (Victorian costumes!), have to build at least three sets of Victorian undergarments and various and sundry other costume-y type stuff, will spend the next two weekends out of town for a marriage retreat and my 20 year reunion, respectively, I have to make my children's Halloween costumes, finish a quilt for a baby who is nearly two months old, finish promised projects to other extended family members and take care of my family and home on top of it all.
I. Do not. Have time. To be ill.
Also, I have a touch of insomnia tonight. Fun times! So, I did the laundry from the show - extracting tattoo cover makeup from nylon/poly blend isn't as easy as one might think - and read the next play for which I want to audition, had a bath and am now sipping hot milk in an effort to get sleepy.
The play I read is funny. I love plays. That isn't to say that I don't love musicals. I do. But there's something about a play; reading a character aloud and finding the right accent, imagining the scene onstage, plotting out the comedic timing. I love it. It's as comforting as putting on a fluffy robe and curling up on the couch to watch a movie. In this particular play, that character I'd want to play is actually three different characters and have German, Scottish and English accents respectively. A dream for an actress. How much FUN would that be?
Anyway, it's a long shot. One female character, a billion girls who'll show up to audition, yet I'm ever hopeful.
The musical that we just put to bed was a good experience. It was a LOT of work. But I'm glad that I did it, and I'm happy that so many people enjoyed our efforts. It's gratifying, to put art out there and have it be recognized. And once I get the laundry done and the costumes back from the cleaners and put them all away, it'll really be finished.
You see why I don't have time to be sick?