So I THINK that what I did was that I pulled the quick out of my toenail when I was assessing the damage from the stillage. I remember thinking at the time as I twisted that bit of broken nail out that “I might regret this. I might get a lot of pain for this later…” And then I pulled that bit of nail out the side and felt that crucial little bit of skin go with it.
We’ve all pulled the quick out before. If you haven’t yet I suspect you’re the exception. When you do it it feels like nothing. Twenty four hours later your finger or your toe hates you. It lasts about two days.
Toenail pulling was a well represented form of harmless torture. Start by pulling the toenails, then twisting the thumbs, then whatever you reckon is gonna do the trick – cut off the Johnson? But you don’t want to cause despair too early. Hope is the best weapon. So the continuous pain as your body puts that bit of skin back, that’s gotta be gold for your average family torture guy. A tiny thing for a big effect.
But… yeah, that’s been my day. Hating the pain in my toe. Working really hard vocally to try and encourage bravery and offers in a short rehearsal process with a load of people who aren’t professional actors. I always attack first and then pull back, it’s who I am. The Factory has spoilt me slightly in that I know people are listening and watching enough to build something together LIVE. Without that support, I tend to overpush looking for it.
It’s a lovely bunch. But fuck me, someone hits their own sides every fucking line, literally, not twenty seconds went by without a one or two arm sideslap. It drives me mad. And the PRONOUNS! Like there was always someone else about to do what WE did. No no no no it is almost always what we DID, or what we THINK we did.
So yeah, I was overpushing vocally in order that we all don’t look like we are leaning back and speaking words that aren’t ours out the side of our mouths. But in so doing I did something unusual to my jaw muscles. Now the pain in my toe is nothing compared to the pain in my face.
All will be well. I’m going up North. I don’t have to do much. I’ll look after some guinea pigs and a cat. And I’ll do fuck all for a while. All will be well. Maybe I’ll write something.
Just one more drive. I’ll try not to sleep weird on my jaw…
