I remind myself that there are people in wheelchairs.
That there are good people victimized by terrible maladies.
That things can always, always, always, be worse.
It knocks my restless misery level from a 10…to a 9.
And I confirm, once again, that I am not patient. I am an impatient.
My pinky toe is cracked. And who knew pinkies were soooo important? Well, besides orthopedic/podiatry types…
Now, my bone is healing. It’s my mind that’s cracking.
My life has devolved into a state of near-solitary confinement inside the Holiday Inn, which may or may not be worse than actual prison, depending on whether it’s a blue or white collar facility…
“Patience: A minor form of despair disguised as a virtue.” ~Ambrose BierceI’ve made friends with two shuttle bus drivers, debriefed the restaurant chef on his career, food selection and favorite desserts, and spent quantity time with the front desk. I suspect I would’ve talked up the plants if they’d had any. I’ve watched some truly awful movies, which rather than entertaining me, highlight my desperation. Then, despite the extreme boredom, I cannot sleep.
I haven’t performed in Mamma Mia for a week, and it looks like I’ll be off stage for another two weeks because all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, can’t put my pinkie toe back together again any faster.
I know what you’re thinking…or at least I think I know because all I can do is think all the time. And I think you’re thinking: Hey! This is great! You can read! Watch movies! Sleep in! Not work!
But these are all solitary, sedentary options…and turns out my body and mind can handle only limited quantities of solitary/sedentary. The thrill of tour for me is getting out, on foot, exploring a town, seeing parts of the country I’d otherwise never see.
For example!?!?! Just yesterday, we were on the bus en route to Lincoln, Nebraska…and drove through the town of WAHOO! As if that wasn’t enough kooky fun, we also drove through Oakland (Nebraska, not California), which took the time, trouble and expense to erect a sizable sign proclaiming it “The Swedish Capital of Nebraska”. I had NO IDEA!!! Sweden has an outpost in America’s Midwest! And it has no stoplights, so watch for speeding lingonberries.
Lincoln is the capitol of Nebraska, and capitols are fascinating fonts of information about a state, its history, its people and culture. As an added bonus, you can usually score a free tour! But I’m in isolation. Can’t walk the highly attractive University of Nebraska campus, either. Can’t this, can’t that. blahdy-blahdy-blah.
Tomorrow is looking pretty long, especially with the cast off doing two shows while I languish at Chez Holiday. So I’ve put together a modest 9-item list of things to do to ward off further mental cracking. Because after all, a hotel room is still better than a padded room. I think.
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