The mornings here are quiet. I wake up without an alarm clock between 9 and 9:30, stare at the ceiling until I’m compelled to move, then shuffle into the living room and turn on the computer. There are always a good eight or nine greenroom comments waiting in my inbox, all spam because I haven’t posted here in several weeks.

I then usually attempt to start a new post about my experiences thus far at The Children’s Theatre, mostly out of guilt for being silent for so long, but realize that I don’t have much to say. It’s not that there isn’t a lot happening – there is – it’s just that I’ve been so ensconced in the process of this show that I haven’t been able to step back enough to write about it.

Until last night’s rehearsal, when I was told to go home.

It all started with a cold that took root Monday evening, New Year’s Day, which then avalanched over the next 24-hours into the stomach flu. By some stroke of luck I wasn’t called in to rehearsal on Tuesday. Wednesday I reluctantly called the Stage Manager, asking to be excused. By Thursday’s rehearsal, I was able to walk around my apartment and finally keep down crackers and water, so figured I should attend.

Even after arranging a ride from a friend, I was exhausted by the time I got to the theater. Getting in and out of the car was enough for one day, but I plodded onward. When my scenes arose, I gave it everything I had (while trying to keep my face and possible contagion away from the other actors), but it just wasn’t enough. After an hour and a half (of a scheduled six hours), the director stopped me and said that I looked terrible. I said that I was okay to be there if I took it slow, I was just worried about getting too close to the others. He finally, kindly but firmly, told me that I needed to go home.

I was stunned speechless. I didn’t know how to respond, I just felt like a failure. What happened next was all just a blur…I’m not certain what I said, but I think an, “I’m sorry,” was in there somewhere. The Walk of Shame commenced when I had to retrieve my script from one side of the room before exiting out the other – accompanied by the whole cast vocalizing their sympathies.

I got another eleven hours of sleep last night. So far I feel much better than yesterday, but still sluggish. I’ll wait until later this afternoon to make the call on whether or not I can handle rehearsal – after all, the only thing worse than walking the Walk of Shame is walking it twice.