First of all, may I say that there shouldn't be two three o' clocks in a twenty four hour period? Nothing good happens at three a.m. Well, nothing good has ever happened to me at three a.m. Unless you count uninterrupted sleep, which frankly I'm not getting enough of these days.

What I'm saying is that I've been awake now for over two hours - long enough to try to convince myself to go back to sleep, and when it became abundantly apparent that wasn't happening, to have a bath, feed the dogs and have a cup of coffee.

What awoke me at that ungodly (seriously, I refuse to believe MY risen savior has anything to do with 3 a.m.) hour you may ask? I'll tell you, reader. I woke up in a sweat, frowning, with a heck of a backache from a dream about... you guessed it. Choreography.

I'm affectionately calling them 'dancemares.'

Wait, what? Not everyone has nightmares about dance steps? Just me? Alrighty.

Anyway, once I'm awake and thinking about what comes next (step step kick chase turn step ball change) and get stuck, then my mind drifts to other things. Like the fact that one or possibly more of my costumes for the show might be pornographic.

More about nightmares of all sorts... )
At least I've learned the music. Mostly. But hitting the right notes is not going to stop my rear end from being exposed to all of Amarillo this May. Stay tuned. It's gonna be a hell of a ride.
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