Friday, March 11, 2011

Looming Thoughts

This blog isn't about weaving. Sorry weaving fans. Sorry Hugo Weaving.

Its early March and already this afternoon has been spent organising the whole of August. Its not the first time this year I've had to think about the 8th month of 2011, and nor will it be the last. Its all Edinburgh Fringe nonsense and once again it appears I will be attending the 24 day work fest, struggling with the lack of sleep, more than moderate booze intake and ridiculous levels of adrenaline that pile through me during my show's run. This year it seems that having not learnt anything from putting myself through the endurance test several four times before, I will be doing more than just one show. I tell myself there is some logic in this, involving the idea that the busier I am, the less time I can spend in the bar. Truth be told it will just mean I spend exactly the same amount of time in the bar but consequently feel even worse than normal in September.

Its amazing how something can be so exciting and yet fill me with so much dread all at once. Various people I've spoken to that tell me they aren't attending this year say it with a kick in their step and a smile on their face, knowing full well they might get the chance of actually seeing the sunshine during the summer and not riddling themselves with stress over the whole situation. Yet come August they will feel left out, missing the joy of sitting in the Pleasance Courtyard with a beer or loitering the Loft bar with a beer or just having a beer somewhere at some point. I think about all the work it will involve and I shudder a bit. I think about all the money it will cost and I shudder a bit more. I have to willingly stop thinking about it or risk shuddering continuously until I dislodge something permanently. Yet I'm hooked. I totally have to be there. Despite shuddering. Which will have to stop or I'll spill my beer.

Final confirmations need to be made, two shows need to be written and one needs to be booked, flats found, posters designed, costs paid, blurbs written and a new rain jacket bought. Eventually, one day, I'll get to have a sleep again. One day.

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