In Which I Get Some Sleep

I am a juggernaught.

I've been firewalling it since Wednesday 11. The madness that is my average day has been accelerated straight through into insanity; days merge into nights and back again into mornings. Time becomes meaningless, though ostensibly it is of the utmost importance. Run, walk, jog, drive, fly, swim, somersault numbly from hither to yon.

I am a juggernaught.

Last weekend was one of late nights on stage and a whole lot of tossing and turning in a very noisy hotel. New York kids have already got to be the loudest little pukes there are as it is, but put them together in any number--let's not talk about the small army that patrolled the halls for 72 hours straight--and things start to happen. The ubiquitous Do Not Disturb signs begin disappearing from their proper places, with the result that room service stumbles in to find one in one's natural state or, worse, finally having nearly dozed off; public bathroom fixtures likewise mysteriously uproot themselves and migrate to a faraway land; doors are randomly kicked in by twelve-year-old girls demonstrating to their friends the inadequacy of the locks. New York is no place for the insomniac, regardless of what is said.

I am a juggernaught.

Immediately upon returning from the Catskills, the library dash begins. Two shows a day, in every corner of the State. Drive, unload, set up, crowd control, cast control, cast control, cast control, break down, reload, drive, repeat. Read five pages of Walden, if eyes will stay open that long. Repeat, repeat, etc.

I am a juggernaught.

Only one show Saturday morning. Unload entire set and props. Disembowel, ..uhh, clean out the van in preparation for the "Shanty Shindig." Refill (to the brim) with musical instruments, launch oneself over standup bass in order to reach seat. Dandify oneself; this is a pirate party, after all. Swashbuckle one's way through a four-hour set, ending at 2:00 AM. Scratch, scratch, scratch (wearing a wool sack coat). Scratch some more. Reload van, drive, unload van.

I am a juggernaught.

3:45 AM: I lie awake in bed. The rain drums on the roof. Cool sheets. Soft pillow. The morning brings my first day off after ten days on. Life is so good.

I am a jugggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg