It's been a rubbish summer, weather-wise. Barely three days of warm sunshine at a stretch, and it seems someone has already pushed the Autumn button. Whilst it's sunny today, there's that smell of a new school term in the air and the leaves seem somehow crisper.
Whilst I've been lucky enough to take a couple of holidays this year, neither New York nor Toronto were particularly warm (in fact I almost got hypothermia in New York.) so I feel I've kind of missed out on sunshine due to me this year. But last night I had a dream where I was snoozing on a Greek beach. The heat and radiant warmth were almost overpowering, as I lay back and relaxed. Then - in my dream - I suddenly sat bolt upright as I thought, "Fuck! I'm supposed to be on stage!"
Yes, Ploggers. The stress dreams for the latest play have started. Partly this is my own fault. The production is less than two weeks away and I haven't yet totally entirely learned my lines. I'm confident experience as a stand-up will help me to ad-lib. Maybe. Even if the other character's don't appreciate it. Yes. It's the fourth play-related stress dream I've had in as many nights.
I don't think it's just me who's feeling the stress either. I had to miss Thursday's rehearsal as I was up in Manchester for work, but apparently I missed a corker of a row between our (very good) musical director and the guy who plays the lead. It's been brewing for a while, and I guess the stress and the reality of the situation have suddenly all come to a head. Glad I was out of there anyway. I don't like conflict, unless it's over the phone with a fuckwit company and I'm getting some sort of refund.
So, if you would like to come and see Little Shop of Horrors, please let me know. I will be wearing a blonde wig and a hideous dress. I will be singing and - horror of horrors - dancing. Until I fall over in my pointy shoes and show my knickers to everyone. Front row seats not advised.
We're running from Wednesday 24 September through to the Saturday, and tickets are £15. It's on in a central London theatre. So if you'd like to come along, drop me an email to firstname.lastname@example.org and I'll reserve you some tickets. Please bring your own rotten fruit. Everywhere near me is already sold out in anticipation.