Sick of being Sick

Well, the Debbys are performing on Sunday, and I've been struggling with flu since before Gurlesque. I notice at one time in history, 'depression after influenza' was used as a common explanation for suicides during inquests. It now makes perfect sense to me. I spent Monday working day shift at a brothel (this inevitably means Dr Phil, Oprah and Bold and the Beautiful). The combination of flu and menstruation meant that I was weeping my way through Oprah. Then off to a rehearsal Monday evening. Crawled around the place looking miserable in a Santa hat, looking for quiet corners to learn lines while chaos was occurring around me.

Somehow misery in a Santa hat is more effective than bare-headed misery. I even had Debby Desiderata giving me a massage. As it was, under different circumstances I would have flipped her, and massaged her. Instead, my flu seems to have left me rather passive, so I just proposed. I'm panicking and hoping my voice is strong and effective for Sunday night. I'm performing the last piece of the night, and I'd like it to work.