|For the second week of October! Oh happy day.|
But its my life that is becoming so unusual. Like getting up impossibly early. I got up this morning at 3:30 am—that's 7:30 am in Halifax where my internal clock seems to be timed. And I wear glasses all the time now. It's been five months. Why did I resist wearing glasses for so long?
And now I bark when I speak. I am in my eight month of living it. And now I have an iPhone. Why did I resist having one of these for so long?
But the most unusual thing about my life now is facing so empty a future—and when you get up at 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning, there is a lot of future to face. But there will be no more teaching, no more performing at the Flame or in plays and no more workshops and speeches. Well… these things are all gone until my voice comes back. But will it come back?
Warren and I have one more session to go on Uncle Gus' Monkey, then we will be finished draft two and that will lead to a flurry of development tasks. That is one project that will fill some of my time going forward.
And in a week, I will be dealing with the future of Trudeau, the Felons and Me. Next week, I will get an impression of probabilities about my vocal future from the speech therapist and with that information, I will talk with the artistic director of Presentation House about whether or not I do the show, do it with someone else in my part or cancel it altogether.
No desire to travel, no work, a body that only wants five hours of sleep—all that plus difficulty reading. I life activity and reading is so incredibly passive. Writing is its active form, and that is what my fingers and mind most want to do. I suspect I will be coming up with a lot of projects that I can do without speech.