Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible
Wednesday, March 12th, 2008I’m doing something which I haven’t done so far this gig, and not singing tonight. (As opposed to not singing when it’s my night off. That’s OK).
I’ve been feeling very, very tired lately - I don’t really know why - and yesterday started to feel the beginnings of a sore throat. So I pumped myself full of fruit and veg and Panadol and elephantine vitamin pills - but still awoke today to the feeling of having swallowed razor blades, and barely being able to talk.
Now, I’m pretty sure I haven’t been swallowing razor blades - although who knows, maybe it’s like sleepwalking? - and while I’m no doctor, I think we can safely say that I have what is known as a Coldus Communus, and now feel something like this:
Hence not singing tonight.
Or talking to anyone today.
Verbally, at least.
I really hate to let people down, but if being able to talk means being able to sing (or if you’re the blonde one in ABBA, able sing before you can talk. According to ‘Thank You For The Music’, at least), then I doubt very much that I can sing today, even if I wanted to. And I certainly shouldn’t sing if I want to get better quickly.
So… I’m going to post this, rest all afternoon and then get an early night. In fact, not leave my room all day. In fact, not leave my bed all day. Except for, y’know…*
Which is tedious. But I don’t ask for your sympathy, oh no. Or even your money. I realise how lucky I am; and that this must be rather like being ill in a private hospital. I have room service; and a king-sized bed; and the following men to keep me company, should I need them:
Granted, none of them are trained medics, except in the dispensary of life’s finest medicine: laughter, and election coverage. Now all I need is a fluffy bathrobe, a box of chocolates, and a pair of pink mules. Housekeeepiiing!
*Checking my emails.
tərˈnæʃ
