It’s 7 O’Clock In The Morning

It’s 7 o’clock in the morning. I awoke to voices on the television (which I must have left on) and an annoying sore throat. Time to get some handy-dandy Zithromax I’m thinking, stop the invasion before it starts. If there’s one thing, dear readers, that you can rely on more than anything else in this world it’s that I have a shitty immune system. Think I’m kidding? Well, let’s take a quick look at the standard dictionary definition of immunodeficiency, shall we?

There it is in black and white.

Then again, it could just be the horrible air in this city, the air conditioning, and the fact that I’ve been singing for hours on end every day for a week. Roll the dice.

The question is – what would Brian Boitano do?

Doesn’t matter really, I’m ready to go. Oh am I ever. I haven’t been this anxious to hit the stage in a long time.

It’s now 7:47. That’s right, it’s taken me 47 minutes to write everything you’ve read up until this point. I’m human lightning.

It’s been a crazy week though. Rehearsals have been intense, my Dad was briefly admitted to hospital (don’t worry, he’s fine), the world has been shaken by unimaginable natural disasters, manmade disasters that have been going on for a while now, and, of course, the ever present threat of Africanized killer bees.

I’m going to try and write something of substance now, being that I have some time on my hands.