Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Pain Pain Go Away
Not to be too reminiscent of my Dawson City days, but I am living inside of an Injury Nightmare.
My hamstring tear has become a problem that is getting worse and worse instead of better and better. Last week I was sure that It was starting to heal, only to feel it begin to rewind by the latter end of our seven-shows-in-four-days week. At least last week I was allowed to alter my Anything Goes track and not do the dance numbers. This week, feeling more pain than ever before, I have exhausted my Get Out Of The Dance Numbers Free card and am being asked to reinstate myself. I am in enough pain that they are trying to re-choreograph things to aid my injury, but any kind of dancing right now is only a detriment to my healing. I am now hardly sleeping at night because my leg and hip ache so much that I can not get comfortable. It is making me panic. I start to have the fantasies emerge of not being able to finish this contract. Having gone through the rehearsal period in psychological pain and to now do the run in physical pain (funny how those two often follow each other?) I am starting to once again question if these aren't all signs that I should jump ship. Lord knows I don't want to do permanent damage to my leg or hip. Not for this show. Not on your life.
All this drama, unsurprisingly, has a very negative effect on my relationship. A wee example: He asks to sleep in the same bed and then promptly falls into a deep, thick sleep while I lay awake throbbing. Logically I know that this does not make him a bad person, but there is nothing lonlier than lying awake in the dark, hurting, while the person beside you is off in la-la-land. Then in the morning, when he awakes, refreshed and rejuvenated after I have tossed and turned and been tempted to cut my body off at the waist and throw it into the ocean...when he awakes and asks me - ME who has gotten about three hours of piece meal sleep - with his perky little voice "how ya feeling this morning baby?"....well, let's just say that if RESENTMENT was my pimp, I'd be its top ho.
Ahhhhh, I ain't any good at relationships. And I think I am officially too old to be hired as a dancer. I think I should just consider becoming a Tibetan monk or a celibate nun.
Either that or down a handful of Robax, crack a bag of Doritos and think seriously about taking up drinking.
I mean, if ya can't beat 'em, ya might as well join 'em.
My hamstring tear has become a problem that is getting worse and worse instead of better and better. Last week I was sure that It was starting to heal, only to feel it begin to rewind by the latter end of our seven-shows-in-four-days week. At least last week I was allowed to alter my Anything Goes track and not do the dance numbers. This week, feeling more pain than ever before, I have exhausted my Get Out Of The Dance Numbers Free card and am being asked to reinstate myself. I am in enough pain that they are trying to re-choreograph things to aid my injury, but any kind of dancing right now is only a detriment to my healing. I am now hardly sleeping at night because my leg and hip ache so much that I can not get comfortable. It is making me panic. I start to have the fantasies emerge of not being able to finish this contract. Having gone through the rehearsal period in psychological pain and to now do the run in physical pain (funny how those two often follow each other?) I am starting to once again question if these aren't all signs that I should jump ship. Lord knows I don't want to do permanent damage to my leg or hip. Not for this show. Not on your life.
All this drama, unsurprisingly, has a very negative effect on my relationship. A wee example: He asks to sleep in the same bed and then promptly falls into a deep, thick sleep while I lay awake throbbing. Logically I know that this does not make him a bad person, but there is nothing lonlier than lying awake in the dark, hurting, while the person beside you is off in la-la-land. Then in the morning, when he awakes, refreshed and rejuvenated after I have tossed and turned and been tempted to cut my body off at the waist and throw it into the ocean...when he awakes and asks me - ME who has gotten about three hours of piece meal sleep - with his perky little voice "how ya feeling this morning baby?"....well, let's just say that if RESENTMENT was my pimp, I'd be its top ho.
Ahhhhh, I ain't any good at relationships. And I think I am officially too old to be hired as a dancer. I think I should just consider becoming a Tibetan monk or a celibate nun.
Either that or down a handful of Robax, crack a bag of Doritos and think seriously about taking up drinking.
I mean, if ya can't beat 'em, ya might as well join 'em.
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