We are all so tired we’ve lost the ability to think properly. I found myself in downtown Colorado Springs having a panic attack about nothing. Now I’ve got to write a blog about today and all I want to do is stop and not write because I feel sick just thinking about it. My fingers are just winding through the words reflexively.
I have no idea where I’ll be sleeping on Sunday night but it’ll be somewhere in the vicinity of San Francisco. I should book an Airbnb but every time I attempt anything right now I feel sick and sad and I have to stop. I’m sitting in the foyer of this amazing hotel in this beautiful town and I’m all dressed up in a suit about to go for a meal with the air force and I don’t know if I can make conversation with anybody right now. I’m trying to get something written to allow me to relax as there’s a full on crash coming and it wouldn’t surprise me if it was in the next hour or two.
Tomorrow I’ve got to go and work with a bunch of cadets on their production of Christmas Carol. It’s about to go into tech. Funny that my last bit of teaching on this job is going to be directly to do with the next job. I guess it’ll help me switch my head into Dickens.
“It’s too early for dinner,” says Jono.
Airforce and actors are on very different schedules. The Colonel rang me yesterday at 7.30am to ask me what people might want for lunch. Their view on time is not like mine. It is indeed too early for dinner, but an early bed appeals.
This has been a long job, and a varied one. Different time zones, different states, different institutions. A huge variety of different human beings who want different things from different members of this different group. The five of us will split up on Sunday and go our separate ways. Claire’s off home. Jono is off on a road trip to Arizona. Kaffe and Katherine are driving up to San Francisco, which is what I was going to do before I realised I’d need to be back sooner to make a new Christmas Carol for a new season with Jack. I’m looking forward to Christmas, to home, to consistency, even to getting back in the nightie. Home will feel very different and a little part of me is dreading walking up the stairs and not having Pickle say “Wurrp” to me and trying to get underfoot.
But I’m just fragile today. Endings and beginnings. We are all completely knackered, and in about a minute and a half we will walk into a restaurant with unspecified numbers of lovely people who want to talk about Shakespeare and acting under the cold of the Colorado moon when we are running on fumes…
Food has improved my mood and my state. The guys all get up at 4.30 so we are already finished. It’s only half seven. I’m going to have a pleasant drink with the company and then tomorrow I’ll walk into the last day of work.