Right now, the "web…blah…log" is not being updated regularly, but feel free to peruse the archive, and check out our carefully selected highlights from Season One, Season Two, and Season Three.

Monday, September 6, 2010


So here we are. 
I have several levels of tired. (One might say that my tired is tiered. (Sorry. That was uncalled for.)) Some of them result in utter hilarity, especially when I try to speak and the words of a thousand monkeys at a thousand typewriters emanate forth in no particular order. 
But then there is the level of tired where I am too spent to even attempt speech. Last night was one of those nights. 
Our cast received flu shots after our second show, and as I waited in line, I hit the proverbial wall. Yes, I am well aware that some people hit such a wall at mile 20 in a marathon... me, well, I hit it just standing in line, thanks in part I suppose to my snack-centric lifestyle. To be fair, I had just done two shows. Of course, to be even fairer, I didn’t do much in them.
But oh, my silly mind runs around so much that sometimes it just craps out. And thusly I was brought to this moment.
I barely had the energy to say hello to the doc, and in fact two syllables was too much for me: “Hi.”
As he unwrapped the needle and I shoved up my sleeve, I noticed that my arm sort of looked like dough popping out of a Pillsbury can. I wanted to make some sort of quip to hide my mortification - “hey doc, can you take some stuff out of here before you put that in?” or “got any lipo needles in that big bag of yours?”
My lips never parted. Thank God. What lousy material. It was the thousand monkeys at the thousand typewriters, at it again, this time trying to be glib. But everyone knows that nothing good can come from a monkey trying to be glib.
I barely felt the needle; still, I desperately wanted it to be over so I could put my damned appendage back in its sheath and bolt (even if it would no doubt be a slow bolt... to China...). But the doc told me to wait and see if I needed a bandage for the injection site. I knew I was too tired to bleed, and I almost told him so.
But again, I was blessedly mute.
So I thank my heretofore under-appreciated exhaustion for putting the kibosh on those glib monkeys. 
Of course, the double-parenthetical at the beginning of this little gem is all me. Because everyone knows that monkeys don’t know how to use the shift key.
Yes, indeed. Welcome to me.

No comments:

Post a Comment