I'd Rather It Were Bacteria...

Presuming that I can still, on occasion, manage to do the simplest of arithmetic, this should be my 75th post here on the blog. And to think, I was just going to ramble about how I feel like I might throw up at any minute. Actually, I think I shall muse on the topic.

I could be sick. I know a few people who have taken ill with some Linda Blair-ish symptoms, so the fact that I'm on the verge of hitting a cold sweat and the stomach is in knots is not all too surprising. But then, rather than some horrible bacteria or whatever causing this, there's always the chance that it's nerves. Gut-wrenching, head-spinning, leg-numbing, nerves about the show opening this weekend. THAT, or my body's possibly manifesting a physical reaction to some recent events that don't need to be discussed. It's probably the latter. Which begs a whole new question: do I literally make myself sick?

Wow. The potential corporeal realization of the metaphor is almost so ironic that I want to laugh. Seriously though... I've had this feeling in the pit of my stomach since yesterday afternoon. I'd read something I wasn't expecting (and no, it was not a spoiler for BSG or any of my shows—it's much more important in a real-life way), and you know how people will go numb with the shock of something? I did. Felt the world get cold. Had to go for a walk and lie down (went and sat in my car, took a nap actually).

That didn't make the numbness go away. I felt it for hours.

Still do when I let myself think about it. That or this is something serious and medical and the coincidence of these physical reactions showing up just when I was mentally shell-shocked will be the end of me. I'm really hoping it's the mental thing playing tricks on me.

Of course, it's not nerves. Not about the show. The show's going to be great. I left rehearsal last night feeling really good about where we are with the show this week.

No, the sick feeling isn't physical and it's not the show. Never been this nervous about an opening, even when it was MY play, I wasn't this nervous. No, I don't think opening-night anxiety is the culprit here. It's the mental about something entirely different. Which I'm not talking about (like people—sometimes it's best not to talk about things).

Good, I'm glad you're coming with me on that.

So 75. It's pretty nift that this is happening in conjunction with the opening of "Darkside". Maybe it is the nerves. I'm so very excited for this play to hit the stage tomorrow night. The actors have been working hard and the crew has come together nicely. I'm a little sad to see it end—my part anyway; the best part is still just beginning. The actors and crew are taking from here tonight and I get to sit back and watch and enjoy it without a notepad tonight, without jotting things down, without thinking critically about everything. I am very much looking forward to letting myself get completely caught up in their performances tonight.

There could be tears.

Good ones.

Okay, now I'm laughing—not at the tears; those could happen quite easily. I'm amused because it's back... there it is... just that slightest feeling... won't go away. A chill. Sweating. The numbness and roll in the stomach. Probably a mix of emotions. It's been a long week and it's not over yet. Boy, do I need a nap and then some. Will write more if I can before the weekend. And then, of course, I'll post all about opening night. Until then...