Well, the plague has been fun. Actually, no, it hasn't. And yesterday's experience with singing on swollen vocal cords...well, I wouldn't recommend it. It felt like trying to walk with a broken leg. Everything was all floppy in there, and I couldn't get the cords to approximate and well, anything in the passaggio sounded much like a dying animal. Luckily, the first reader was very supportive, and I think it might not have been as bad to them as it sounded in my head. Maybe? Because to me, it just sounded like I was doing damage. So today, I will be quiet and continue the salt water gargling. I think nothing is as harmful to singing as coughing-- and when you are coughing and can't sleep-- it's a recipe for disaster. That codeine I had left over from my wisdom teeth debacle came in very handy last night when the robitussin didn't stop the coughing.
But enough of that.
I watched something yesterday that was amazing-- Maya Angelou's Master Class on the Oprah network. She is incredible. If only there was a way I could have a recording of that on loop in a set of earphones that were glued to my head. I think I would be a much better, more grounded person.