So we’re watching The Simpsons (as one does) and Lisa is all freaked out about Halloween – and Marge describes it to Bart as her having “a tummy ache in her courage”. Yep, that’s me – all the time. That’s a good metaphor for the anxiety – it’s a tummy ache in my courage. It’s that uncomfortableness that makes me not want to do things. Just enough of a proverbial tummy ache to make me want to stop doing things.
The next set of burlesque performances are coming up. Being in two classes means two numbers. We’re performing twice – on two nights. So four performances over two weeks. It’s two routines to remember. Lyrics to memorize. Remembering to sing and dance and strip at the same time. It’s nerve wracking and anxiety provoking. I’m not stopping. I didn’t sign up for the short 5 week session – with the holidays, I don’t even want to think about it – but I will be doing classes again after the 1st of the year. They’re talking about a solo development class that’s just Broadway… which I would be about. I have a piece in mind… I just need to put it together.
These are things I wouldn’t have done a year ago. Singing. In front of people who have paid money to see me sing. With people who are FAR more talented than I am (because they have papers to prove it – because it’s all about the papers). Part of my brain screams at me and wants to know what the hell I’m thinking – but the rest of me is just kind of tired of listening to that nonsense.
Maybe I’m losing the tummy ache for a little while.
it's a delicate struggle 