Repeat after me. Sami is not getting sick.
No, seriously. Sami CAN NOT get sick. Say IT!
Thank you. There is no way that I can do the vocal gymnastics required for this show if I have to freebase Sudafed just to get through it. Sorry, just ain’t happenin’.
I have been able to ward off the ickies for most of this year. This is quite an accomplishment when you small young cesspools . . . I mean, children at home. And this past weekend the little darlings seemed to be competing for some kind of Snot Marathon. Then poor Bruce decided to join in on the fun. Our house had become a veritable Petri dish of tiny wannabes clamoring for stage time.
So now that the fam is all starting to get better, of course, I can feel the beginnings of the tickle in the throat, the pressure in the ears, the dryness behind the eyes.
Fortunately, I have always been able to hold off a cold for as long as possible. The Virus Gods have been very kind to me and have allowed massive infestations to simmer just below the surface long enough to get through tech and that ever important “oh crap the critics are here” period. I can’t tell you how many times the day after closing, my body has suddenly screeched to a halt, set fire to the kitchen and closed up shop.
This time doesn’t feel any different. The only real difference, of course, is my panic that this time I won’t be charmed – that this time I will come down with some wish-it-was-deadly form of bronchial pneumonia that will linger just until closing night and the only real symptom is a sudden lack of control over the vocal chords. I know this is just the paranoia talking but it is hard to feel confident when tiny phlegm bubbles threaten to wreak havoc with your big belty number.
So for the next few days I will be mainlining the multivitamins in the hope of keeping the sickies at bay. I might throw in a zinc lozenge for good measure. Hell, I might even gargle with cider vinegar as Herr Director suggested.
What I will NOT be doing is getting sick. Damn it.