They say comedy is “tragedy plus time”.
And that finding laughs is all about the timing.
So…
I guess that means the timing of my mini-flu – being right when I needed to buckle down and prepare for my show – will be funny.
Eventually.
Right now though, I can’t really laugh…
Because I can’t really breathe.
Pause for laughter.
It does mean though, that I’ve had time to gather my thoughts and think about things:
The show.
The men.
The trip home.
The writing.
The life.
You know – The Tash Things.
#overanalysingsince1985
And right now?
I have to write a blog post.
A lesson for you all.
Because I will not be defeated by my own body.
My weekly routine will not be interrupted.
But I have my doubts about the coherence of my thoughts this week…
Let’s give it a try anyway.
Lesson 35
My Bega Baby wrote me some motivational texts yesterday.
She was telling me not to stress about my show.
And not to fight against my body – it was making me rest for a reason.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” thinks I, “that’s all good and well, but I still have half a show to learn!“… As I roll over and go back to sleep.
A fairy godmother brought around some flu-fighting supplies for me.
My parents emailed me, reminding me that it’s better I’m sick now than in two weeks’ time when I’m home.
All these people are amazing.
And fantastic.
And correct.
But still – this stupid flu is eating into precious show-prep time!!!
So, since I can’t concentrate long enough to be reading over and over and over my script, nor do I have the breath required to recite things over and over and over to myself, I’m taking the better hours of my day to think about my performance itself.
How I want to convey myself.
How I want to portray myself.
What to do once the lines are actually in my head.
And yeah, I guess that’s a useful thing to do.
But, argggghhhhhh, I just want to be able to breathe again!
In the meantime, I’m catching up on some Netflix, listening to my new favourite radio station and drinking lots of orange juice.
So these strange dreams I have may be less attributed to fever, and more to the weird mix of the above elements.
I have no idea if I’ve made any sense this week.
Let alone if I’ve made any typos.
But I’m leaving it there.
The lesson for us all?
Don’t fever and blog.
It isn’t interesting.
#yourewelcome
#fluflugoaway
#whydontlinesofdialogueabsorbintomemorybyosmosis
#tashtellstalesmaybeinterestingifidontknowwhatimsaying
#twoweeksuntilmelbourne
#thefairygodmothermaybemalebutheaintjewish
#imsickofbeingsicknow
Shul of Tash 