Music Mayhem

Hello all, and greetings from Nathan, Benjamin's guest blogger for the night.

I'm stepping in to fill Ben's shoes tonight, because he is completely swamped with writing and preparing for "The Big Project" which is still being kept under wraps.  For the next few days at least.

I usually abhor the kind of cryptic posts you often see on Twitter and Facebook, along the lines of,  "I've got some very exciting news to tell you, but I'm not going to tell you yet!"  I usually find it all a bit disingenuous, and, well, frankly, a bit tacky, but in this case, Ben and I are forbidden from saying anything at all.  All of which, of course, only goes to make everything even more cryptic, and possibly, even more tacky, for which I can only apologise.

The only reason I bring it up at all, is that otherwise, it would be difficult to explain why Ben isn't here writing his own blog entry!

We both got up early again today.  Early for us, at any rate - I know those of you readers with children will think that an 8.30 alarm clock is a very slovenly lie-in indeed, but Ben and I don't ever get to bed before one o'clock in the morning, so I think we are justified in not seeing the dawn break.  I have friends who always goggle at the fact that I'm sometimes still in bed at ten a.m. (although that's been very rare of late!).  When I ask them what time they go to bed, and hear the reply, "ten-thirty," I just grin to myself, and do the mental maths which often means I'm in bed for fewer hours than those people who think actors must be terribly lazy people indeed.  We're not.  Well, not all the time.  It's just that our working day is shifted on a few hours from where most people's days sit.

I used to battle with my mum over this, who for many years used to call me up at 7.30 in the morning, claiming that she had been up for hours, so what was I grumpy about?  It didn't seem to have occurred to her, that my working day hadn't finish the night before until nearly 11 o'clock, then by the time I got home it was nearly midnight.  The other one that people often say is that, "oh, you must be on such a high from the performance - no wonder you can't sleep straightaway!"  I'd like to set that record straight right now.  It has NOTHING to do with being "on a high."  Half a year into a contract in a long-running West End show, the last thing you feel is on a high.  Don't get me wrong, I love my job, and can't imagine making a career out of anything else, but once you get past the opening night, and are a few weeks in, the nerves and the adrenaline disappear, and what you mostly feel at the end of a show is utterly exhausted.  Skipping about for two and a half hours is quite a lot of cardio in one sitting!  Now do it eight times a week...

So why, I hear you ask, do I not go to sleep at a "reasonable" time like everyone else?

Back to the point about finishing at nearly 11 o'clock: how many people who finish work at 5pm are in bed by 6?  Anyone?  I didn't think so.  No further questions, Your Honour.

I digress...

Since getting up this morning, we have both been sitting solidly at our computers, beavering away at what is fast becoming the most stressful thing I've ever worked on - so much to do, and no time to do it in... But I'm talking cryptically again, so I'll stop.

With hardly a break for lunch, and even less for tea, we've both worked through the day: Ben in the kitchen, trying to look after his back and his posture, and me in the living room. We've had tears and tantrums, when technology lets one or other of us down, and the frustration kicks in, but mostly, I think we've achieved a great deal.  There's still a long way to go, and it looks like Ben will be working through a fair portion of the night tonight to get everything ready for phase two, which starts in the morning.

We'll get there.  We have to!

I brought a little plate of jam tarts into the living room, where Ben has now moved to, as the kitchen is such a depressing mess of crockery and laundry (all clean, I might add, but strewn around the floor and the work surfaces because we simply don't have the time to clear anything away right now!), that he needed a change of scenery.  He looked up from his laptop, and saw my pathetic offering, and his eyes almost filled with tears of joy.  It's ridiculous how the smallest things can mean so much.

Putting things into perspective though, I learned today that the mother of a dear friend passed away unexpectedly today.  I say unexpectedly, as although the lady in question was well over ninety years old, I only saw her earlier this week, and she looked full of the joys of Spring, and as happy and healthy as I've ever known her.  It made me realise, that although my life has been turned a bit upside down of late, and I feel I'm under a whole heap of pressure to get a lot of work done in a very short space of time, how lucky I am, not to be facing the pain of grief, or ill health, or loneliness.

News like that helps you to re-evaluate, taking stock, and throwing the good stuff back into the light, from which it may have been hiding for a while, but proving that it can still gleam with the shine of optimism and happiness.  We would all do well not to forget that.  Post Tenebras Lux and all that.

And on that note, I'm signing off.  Thanks for listening to the waffling of a square-eyed, braid-dead loon.  Panic not: normal Benjamin service shall no doubt resume again tomorrow.

Until next time, sleep well.