Confessions of a Struggling Actor

This abscess HAS to go soon.

Sobriety at the weekend was probably needed, but not welcome.  I bade goodbye to my last stash of doob and beer by inviting Luke round for some music, PlayStation and chat.  It was a quality night and even Le Francais was on decent form when he came in just before midnight.  He's now away until the weekend, so I have the flat to myself.  Not that I plan doing much, but at least it won't get any messier.

Saturday was beautifully calm.  I had a little lie in, but got some filing and tidying done around the house (which didn't last long once the red wine dropping flatmate came back) before meeting one of the 'witches' from MacB to go over her Scottish accent.  I didn't have a clue what to do, so we started off just chatting about stuff so she could try and hear the rhythm and the musicality of my accent.  We then went through her lines and I picked up of various sounds that she was not quite getting and after a couple of hours sitting in the pub doing that, it sounded much better.  She stays nearby, so it was really handy.

After that I decided not to head into town for the Scotland game as the temptation of beer and fags would be too much.  If watching Aberdeen is a trial, then watching Scotland is the same but at the high court.  Instead, I did some work on my lines and kept an eye on teletext.  After the result came in I felt much happier and spent the rest of the evening waiting for the highlights to come on the telly.

Sunday saw me up relatively early and I continued my organisational rampage through the flat.  It seems that sobriety has made me able to keep busy in more constructive ways - also, the telly was pretty crap after Andrew Marr's programme had finished.  Then it was my first proper rehearsal for MacBeth, which was enjoyable and frustrating in equal amounts.  We didn't cover very much and not everyone was there - a few were late, but some others just didn't turn up.  Bad form in my book, but Sam the director made the most of it by going over a scene with Richard (MacB) and me, which went pretty well.  We were done with a couple of hours to spare before the fight director came to work with Richard, so we went for a coffee and met Sam's AD.  When they headed back to the rehearsal room, I went home to dump my stuff before heading to John's gig around 7.

Once I got home, I started to feel a bit funny.  I assumed that it was just the tablets taking hold and headed down to Angel.  There were a few of last Saturday's crowd there so it was good to catch up with their versions of last weekend.  I drank Coke and they sympathised and didn't take the piss.  John's set was great and I really enjoyed it (though i didn't really care for the caterwauling bloke that followed him - clever lyrics, but no need for the screeching voice he put on...) but I felt the tube running under the pub and made me feel worse.  I shot off pretty sharpish once the music was done, but on the tube got mad paranoiac sensations and felt really weird - unlike any drug experience before.  I decided to try and distract myself and, as planned, caught up with stories from the NE from muzz, before trying to get some sleep.

Which didn't happen...

I don't think I've ever been so uncomfortable or not been able to pass out in a while.  With no herbal remedy to send me off to snoozeland, I lay there and sweated and tossed and turned.  I didn't feel any real pain, but I just couldn't sleep.  I'd pass out for what seemed like seconds and once it got to 730am, I decided that I wouldn't be making it into work.  I caught around 2 hours after that and once I awoke, I checked the antibiotics instructions.  "Stay away from caffeinated drinks" was one of the messages and the previous day I'd had a large black coffee and a litre and a half of full fat cola.  That'll be what was wrong then...

In the end, it worked out quite well as I managed to get a helluva lot done during the rest of the day and felt completely clear headed and in control for the first time in ages.  i can't (and won't) promise that this is how I'll be for the rest of time, but I recognise that I need to keep my 'fun' to weekends - and not go mental when I do dismiss sobriety.  I tried to get an early night and had trouble getting to sleep again, but thankfully managed to get up the next morning for my gym induction at 8am.

Back to work yesterday and I have a massive amount on my plate.  I managed to get through a good chunk of it yesterday, but am pretty hectic again today and don't really see any let up in sight.  I was shattered when I got home last night and was thankful that the only thing I had to do was a little bit of paper shuffling and attempt to get an early night once again.  I was going to go to the gym and the mind was willing but the body was weak - usually it's the other way around.  Dropping off was again a problem and I forgot to set my alarms, so missed going in this morning as I'd hoped.  I'm watching the footy with Joe tonight (still not drinking) and have my Scotland top under my jumper to bring the boys luck.

For the rest of the week, it's rehearsal, theatre, gym and buying the last things I need for home before the tax year's out, so I can try an claim back as much as possible - I know I'm due a big rebate, so am just rubbing it in.  I also need to set up an ISA and try and get a doctor's appointment to try and get the pus out of my body so I can resume normal service.  Easter weekend is coming up and I don't want to miss the various opportunities for fun just because of a growth on my back.