Confessions of a Struggling Actor

Well, things have shaped up a little over the last week, but I wasn't expecting this...

I went to the doctors yesterday as there was some problem with my back, down by my coccyx.  I thought it was somethign to do with my falling on it a couple of weeks ago, but no!  Instead, it seems I have an abscess 'on my rectum' to use the doctor's terminology.  She nearly sent me to hospital, but after consulting them, she put me on a course of antibiotics.  I've never had to take medicine (of this calibre) before and I've never had to go into hospital before.  I know it should be a routine lancing when it comes, but I'll admit I panicked a little and had visions of horrible things going wrong, me ending up in a wheelchair, unable to play football, directing rather than acting...then I got a grip and realised that it could be the very thing I needed to spur me into a sober life.  I can't drink or smoke as the effects of the antibios would be decreased and i don't want this lump of puss to get any bigger.

Now, hoping you all haven't been eating while reading this, things are moving forward in my campaign to get my life back on track.  I took last Thursday off and sorted out the bulk of my room - two black bags thrown out.  I'm now doing little things that are frustrating but important and I feel like I'm getting control back again.  This, even though I had my final BIG WEEKEND.

It started with 2 birthday celebrations on Friday.  Pints in town with a work colleague, followed by joints at Angie's.  I managed to be relatively sensible and left at 1am, though the head was a little fuzzy on Saturday morning.  Saturday afternoon (and evening and part of Sunday Morning) was a Paddy's day/flatwarming party in Walthamstow.  For 12 hours, it was boozing, smoking and other naughtiness and a load of fun, with quite a few people I didn't know that well.  Benicassim with this crowd will be legendary, but the pace better not be a fast as that night.  Otherwise, there could be another flight home missed...

Sunday I turned up for football and we weren't too far from getting a result against one of the top teams.  I could have played better if I hadn't been feeling like my entire body was wrapped in cotton wool - expect for when I hit the ground, with felt like granite.  Following that, the subesquent evening and the whole of monday I was feeling crap and in a stinking mood - not helped by the Frenchman opening a letter addressed to me and causing more bother with our internet company.  This lead to me realising that I probably couldn't live with him any longer.  I've been very patient with his (ahem) eccentricites, but no more.  I was happy in that flat and now I'm not - either he goes or I do.  And i have to decide in 4 weeks if I'm to have a chance of finding somewhere decent to move to.  It was that night that I first got concerned about my back and would go to the doctors.

The rest of the week has been (thankfully) a little quieter.  I was supposed to go to a gig with an acting mate last night, but wasn't feeling that up for it - he knows the band, so it wasn't as though I was leaving him like billy-no-mates.  I'm supposed to be out tomorrow, but I think I'll give that the elbow too as it involves going out to shoreditch and not drinking - I don't think I could handle that.

Apart from that MacBeth is starting to get going.  I'm meeting one of the cast for a scottish accent workshop tomorrow near home and then have first proper rehearsal on Sunday.  I have 10 words to say all day - I've already committed them to memory...  The show aside, i'm really getting into quiet time, with only a play and a gig to see all week.  And I've finally joined the gym!!!

Ready for a big push now...