I mean... it's just talking isn't it? ... and mine's a Guinness.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Morning Rituals.

One of the tings… sorry, things (I've still got Jamaican stuck in my head) I hate about the mornings is the way different parts of me wake up at different times. First awake (and I understand that this is by no means a unique phenomenon), is the bladder. Now this is a little cruel because to make a successful trip to the bathroom requires at least some of the other body parts to have woken up as well. I've narrowed it down to touch. Head pounding & eyes screwed tightly shut, I can usually grope my way to the bathroom, do what's required, and make it back to bed unscathed... and since I put one of those snazzy paper-cup dispensers in the bathroom, I can make a half-hearted attempt at minor re-hydration as well.

My voice takes the longest. A few years ago, I'd be bright-eyed and ready to work with any engineer at the crack of dawn. Bear in mind that to the average recording engineer, that was 10am at the earliest, so we were golden. Then it slipped to 11am, and now anything that isn't decidedly "after lunch" is a little troublesome.

OK, I can be professional about this. Given enough notice… thirty-six hours should be fine… (forty-eight is probably better), I'll re-arrange the previous day so that I can be all things to all men. I'll even manage to smile sweetly and nod at the man from the agency… slap a little extra on the fee and I'll laugh at his jokes. No problems.

Makes perfect sense, eh?

Well… maybe one. In the morning, please don't give me a script that's less than 24pt. You see, I may be able to fool the voice, but the eyes have a mind of their own and I feel like such an idiot fumbling through my pockets for the forgotten dime-store reading glasses.

They say you should read the fine print... but sometimes it just ain't gonna happen!

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