Absurdly real

I love the theatre. In small doses, mind. A play longer than an hour makes me fidget, unless it’s really good. I went to a production last night at one of my favourite little theatres in The City Beneath the Mountain. It’s little and close and you almost feel like you’re in the play itself.
They’re a young theatre company known to be slick and funny. And that they were, making fun of various theatre forms cleverly, wittily and making spurts of physical theatre look like a walk in the park. They mixed ‘old-fashioned’ with modern and basically took the piss out of all of them, the whole concept of theatre and drama. In the theatre, in a way that had the audience in hysterics. Brilliant stuff.
I needed the escape, the real world being a little tiresome for me at the moment. I was whisked away into another place, where the absurd is real and the real is absurd and when it was done, I didn’t want to come back from the absurdity, where the situation could be changed by moving two chairs and three frames around the stage.
But I had to bump back into reality. At least I had my favourite spaghetti and meatballs in my tummy, although, honestly, the bump was still, urm, rather bumpy. Lack of sleep. That’s what I’m blaming my lack of shininess on. I’m bad on lack of sleep. Just horrible. I’d like to be able to change situations by moving two chairs and three frames.