It’s starting

Ordinarily I am the sort of person who’s asleep within minutes of lights out. This is something that used to astonish (and to some extent, I believe, annoy) my partner Mike, who quite often had to resort to sleeping pills. Ordinarily. Not always.

With the deadline fast approaching for the cast to be off book, it’s started. Instead of drifting sweetly off to sleep, last night I couldn’t switch my brain off. It insisted on randomly grabbing at lines. “I’d do the young Neil Young. I wouldn’t do the old Neil Young. I’d do the old Graham Nash.” Why is that line going through my head at three in the morning? I know that line. I will never have any trouble with that line. It’s the 200+ other lines I’m worried about. Not to mention the speech. Two minutes long. That’s right. Two minutes. I know I know the gist of it, but the whole thing by Sunday? Bloody hell.

I don’t know if I’ve got bad karma or just bad luck.

Last year I spent many afternoons over at Joe’s place running lines with him for a play he was doing at the theatre festival. Earlier this year I did the same thing for my mate Ray when he was trying to learn half a play for a two-hander he was doing. Both thanked me profusely for this huge help. When they did, I told them it was no problem, that I’d wished I’d had someone to do this with me when I was learning half a play for The Housekeeper. Both said they would happily return the favour. Unfortunately it’s not a favour that one bloke can easily return when all my scenes are with three other women. So, they’re off the hook and I’m hooped. (If I ever find myself in another two-hander, I will definitely call on them.)

My head is exploding. Nevertheless, I need to get back to it. Wish me luck.