My immune system tends to collapse when shows come to an end. The sheer stress and insanity holds it together for most or all of a season, and then the second I start to relax, boom.
I remember when Mark and I went to Europe, I’d just gotten off my second season at Ellen and between that and flying from LA to London, I caught a brutal cold that left me exhausted. I remember lying down and napping on the grass in a park outside Les Invalides while he went and checked it out, since I’d been there on a previous trip and Mark hadn’t.
This time it seems to be a wicked but short duration cold that killed my energy for the last few days, killed my appetite until early this afternoon, and will probably keep affecting my voice for another few.
Therein lies the biggest problem: At a time where I need to be making dozens of phone calls to try and get hired on another show, I sound like the harbinger of the apocalypse.
“Hire me! I’ll bring death and destruction to you and all your issue!” is not really the foot I want to put forward right now.
Oh well. I’ve been feeling much better through the day today, so hopefully it’ll clear up by monday when I have to start making all these damn calls in earnest.