The Show is Going On

This is the week I feel will either make me or break me. As I am already feeling rather broken, this is a worry. On the other hand, if I survive reasonably unscathed I will consider myself at least partly Buffytastic, and shall sign myself up for a short course in vampire slaying.

My cold, or whatever the hell it is (an allergy to my own life maybe?) rumbles on. I spent half of Saturday in bed with sinus related migraine that I could not shift. I spent most of yesterday struggling on with the same thing, and finally gave up at tea time. This was after I had cooked the tea, by the way. Never let it be said that my life as an incessantly boring invalid gets in the way of all the other incessantly boring jobs that make up the rest of my existence. I am nothing if not gifted in the multi-tasking department.

Sunday was the only day I felt in any way well and I was forced to spend vast tracts of it shut in a darkened theatre while the dress rehearsal/tech run through for Tallulah’s show went on, and on, and on.  We arrived at ten to four on Sunday afternoon. We finally got back home at eleven o’clock. I have nothing repeatable to say about the whole thing except that Tallulah coped remarkably well considering how interminable it was, and how much of those hours she sat waiting like Patience on a monument while people in tights and pan stick ran around squeaking.

It was opening night yesterday. Tallulah performs tonight, Thursday and Saturday, and then it is farewell to a medley of sixty seven musicals, hopefully forever. I am literally counting the days. I feel like a prisoner, scratching off the time on my cell wall.

I want to have something positive to say about this experience, other than the fact that I am still sane and clinging onto health by my fingernails. At the moment I have nothing, except maybe the fact that somewhere along the line I might get Brownie points for having stuck at it for Tallulah’s sake, even when I wanted to hurl the entire cast of Mary Fucking Poppins through a plate glass window and spend the rest of my life in a nice, quiet prison, doing no exercise and signing up for free support tights and Open University correspondence courses.

Tonight the entire family turns out to see Tallulah’s stage debut, which will be absolutely lovely for her. We will be cheering her on in spades. I might take pom poms and a glitter cannon. I shall report back, if I am not arrested.

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