Detox is really kicking in. I’m not doing the crazy faddy ones where you consume nothing but what the celebrity tells you they consume. “I get up every morning and have acai and a pomegranate, and Jack’s Handy Supplements TM,” says their ghost writer while they have their Weetabix.
I’m just avoiding caffeine and alcohol, thinking about when I consume meat and the quality of the meat, being a little bit more mindful. I’m pushing fifty. We are supposed to start doing that stuff. My mum was dead at 55 and that seems impossible to make any sense of whatsoever. I have no desire to follow in those footsteps. I’ve got shit to do. Five years? I just got sent my equity pension and it says my retirement age is 75. So I’d better start looking after my instrument more carefully as I’m gonna be using it a lot longer.
The flat is full of men. Tom’s on the sofa to my right, Brian is in the room to my left. Both of them are audibly snoring. Neither of them tend to do that on a normal night. It must be because the weather is breaking. They are catching up on early sleep. I would be too but I ran myself a cold bath by mistake which set me back about an hour. Now I’m getting my head down, after processing the rehearsal today. I’m still loving it. There’s a bit more opportunity to go home though, as the rehearsal calls are being restricted to some of the larger parts. I don’t want to always go home when I’m not gonna be acting, but I’m buried in a financial disaster made of my own negligence, and nobody is gonna bail me out of this but me myself and I. A good opportunity, before I get swamped in Othello as we get closer to performance time. Application of time will maybe help dig out. And I think it’s gonna be worth an official ADHD diagnosis just in case it gets me off some of the fines. Over 2k in fines. That’s the extent of it really. But their existence has caused the ostriching that has made them grow. The fuckers know how to get money out of people in the long run. I’m with your stoned friend who thinks some nebulous “them” people are sucking our energy. If money is energy. Which it is.
So on one level, “detox” can be renamed “can’t really justify blowing money on something that will make me shitter at my job.”
On which note I’m gonna join in the snoring.
AlBarclay 