Sometimes a Manic Hobgoblin gets the better of me. I live in a sweet, old house in central Austin. I travel a few times each year. I have too many pets, and love each one more than the next.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Manic
I performed in one of the Murder Mystery Player shows tonight. I had not done this script for several months, and was nervous about remembering my lines, cues and blocking. I studied my script and prepared as well as I could, but as showtime drew nearer today, I felt more and more like I was going to barf. My stomach hurt as if it was tied in knots.
I tried to distract myself by thinking about other things. I chatted with Chad about whether we want to accept the offer from our mortgage guy to talk about refinancing our mortgage now that interest rates are even lower. I visited the Blue Dog Rescue website and with teary-eyes read all about the sweet dogs and their trials and tribulations that brought them to the rescue group. Warning: these dogs have the sweetest doggy-smiles, so if you follow the link, prepare to have your heart strings plucked. I fielded a phone call from a mystery person who thought she was calling another Jenn, but still have no idea who she was after establishing that I was not the Jenn she intended to call. I watered all the plants inside and outside. I went to Bark-n-Purr to pick up more cat food and a cat toy. I stopped by the bakery to buy a cupcake that I haven't had the stomach to eat yet. I obsessed over the news that several friends with whom I had dinner Sunday night had debilitating tummy trouble over the past few days and wondered if maybe I had a stomach bug and not just pre-show-jitters. My thoughts were spinning around like a twister in my head.
I got to the show on time. Traffic was not a problem. Hair, makeup and costume all looked great. The show went fine. I remembered most, maybe all, of my lines and blocking. The audience paid attention, laughed often and clapped at the end. I got my check. I came home.
Now I have crashed, depleted of my earlier nervous energy. I still feel sick to my stomach. I still have an active tornado warning in my brain due to spinning thoughts.
I need to watch some silly TV. Maybe I should start writing Christmas cards. I should wrap and pack some of these Christmas gifts that are littering the dining room table. I should iron the clothes while I watch TV. I need to finish reading my library book that is due Saturday. What if we get our dog soon and it hates the cats, or the cats band together in mutiny against the dog? I need to buy more limeade before I host the cookie exchange next week, and oh yeah, bake the four dozen cookies to trade. I feel dizzy. Maybe I am going to barf...