It appears that I picked up something on Saturday night at some point, as my chest is quite bad and I cannot stop coughing. I believe it to be some form of cold/flu-ey thing, given that I'm having hot and cold sweats as well. I seem to be past the worst of it now, although I am shutting up for the rest of the week to preserve my voice for the plays that are going on.
This leads me nicely on to the plays in question. Currently, I am performing in a series of one-act plays entitled 'These Shadows', plays about the art of acting. I am only in one of the four, a play entitled 'God: A Play' by Woody Allen, in which he proves that the sacred art of acting is deader than God. The four plays are being performed on alternate nights over this coming week: Ried's 'Pots' and Beckett's 'Catastrophe' on Monday, Wednesday and Friday; and Chekhov's 'Swansong' and Allen's 'God: A Play' on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.
It was opening night for us last night and we played to a full house of 40 (the theatre is in the function room of a tavern). My voice held up and I didn't cough for the whole of my section so I was happy with that. Pity that I was dying afterwards haha.
I've also been having a wierd dream as of late, one thats probably connected with my illness. All I know is that I seem to be in an industrial estate at night with some friends of mine and we're trying to perform a play, but it's complex and I don't know what it's about or what my part is or what I should do. There are moment where it seems so simple, and others where I can't make heads or tails of it. It caused me to wake up at 4:30am today, which I'm ok with, given that the fire alarm woke me up at 4:49am YESTERDAY ¬_¬. Hopefully everything will be back to normal in a couple of days.
Right, I am going to do something productive with my day so that I can help fight this illness off even more.
Laters xx
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