I’m running myself a bath. Tomorrow is my first actual day off for a couple of weeks and I’m looking forward to it very much. I’m home and fed before midnight, and I got it into my head to watch Chernobyl. But I’m not sure it’s the cheerful wind-down telly I need right now. So I paused it.
I’m sitting on the sofa with my constant mash potato dandruff and I realised that it’s as good an escape as any to pour myself into a screen for a while. There’s no booze in the house apart from spirits which aren’t my jam, so it’s time to find alternate windout mechanisms for the evening. I’m winding the whole fortnight out, and gearing up for the busiest week so far.
I do love this job. Tonight was rowdy and fun but also measured. We had a group of very drunk gobby naughty types and conversely four children under ten. The bawdiness changes on the fly, and Jack and I are always editing. I think we found the right balance of adult and kid friendly. But I’m so tired now. I’m not sure I can handle what feels like it’s going to be amazing but dark TV in Chernobyl. I’m more in the mood for something uncomplicated. Or just sleep and a book. This time last year I read a load of books. I think I might need a new one for the season, frankly.
“What’s my name?” someone asked me as I left the show and walked upstairs. I meet 50 audience members every night and remember their names. That part of my brain is flooded when the show is done and this guy is connected to Gatsby upstairs. I haven’t got space left. I remember a conversation last night post show where he told me we were in a circle of him telling me his name and me forgetting it. I remember promising I’d remember. I forgot again. Hey ho. There’s not much room in my head after a show, and particularly not after a week of them. I’m going to brain dump tomorrow. Maybe go for a walk. But mostly I just don’t want to talk or think or do. I just want to shut down and think about nothing. I might go visit my friend in hospital. She’s been moved to another ward now, apparently for infectious diseases. I’m wanting to be as present for her as possible even though it’s still strangely triggering for me to be in hospitals. But she’s going to be more weirded out than I am having to live there. She’s a never been anything but a positive force in my existence, and it’ll be nice to spend a bit of my day down with her.
And then a friend of mine shows up on Chernobyl in a sympathetic role. And suddenly I’m hooked. I haven’t got the awakening to binge it, but that’s some lovely nuanced work right there from Alex, and enough to make me stick with this despite difficult content. I’ll work through this over the next week. It’ll be my Christmas show. Hooray.