Witch is in a deep state of panic/self disgust.  Having just devoured a burger big enough to feed the entire cast of Oliver! several times over, I have realized that I have little more than a week to get it together for rehearsals.  Trying to channel the magic of Sally Bowles, but feeling more like Liza circa 2000.

I shouldn't whinge.  It's not the usual OhGodI'vegottoloseastoneinaweek drama, thank heavens. In fact, we've been specifically told not to slim down.  It was quite refreshing to be told by the choreographer, "Ladies, don't lose any weight.  We want you aerobically fit and brimming with stamina, but stay exactly as you are."  That's a novelty.  Usually they're tearing you apart with their comments about keeping away from the biscuit tin, or suggesting you get down the gym before you break your partner's back.  Someone even told me once that they could see the fat in my eyes.  Now, that's lipodetection for you.

But I have got to get in shape.  I was toying with the idea of setting up the WiiFit, but not sure I can stomach it (especially not after the burger).  Maybe a run?  Nah, it's getting dark.  Ummm....  Does vocal stamina count?  Maybe I could just sing along to my copy of Pirates of Penzance.  That's a laringeal workout, if ever there was one.  I'll even throw in a few reps with a can of baked beans whilst I'm wailing, although I might have to sit out the middle section of Poor Wand'ring One.  That'll do, won't it?

Actually, baked beans are sounding good right now.....