One time, I must compile a chart documenting my anxiety levels in the pre-show preparation period.

I'd imagine it would look much like the graph depicting traffic to my blog. Flat and flat and flat (calm  peaceful content) rounded off with a sudden sharp spike when the actors remember that I might be writing about Them and all dash on to the internet to have a peek. And then slink away disappointed when they realise I only do empty narcissism.

This time about, flat and flat and flat anxiety-wise. Almost none, in fact. Just a happy little jogging along loving 'my' script and loving my actors and loving rehearsals. The familiar nostalgia setting in at approx -3 weeks. But another fortnight of simmering before. O my lord! The show's on in a week! O my lord we can't be ready! O my life we have so much to do! O o o!

This gripped me yesterday. I thought it was ruining my appetite which is most uncharacteristic. Then I woke up this morning (early, feverish, full of worry) and realised I just had an inconsiderate cold.

I've been guzzling inappropriate drugs all day. I think I might snack on a pork pie, take some fierce flu remedy and then I'll be good to go for (if I have the nerve) the -2 rehearsal. Tonight, Wednesday, tech. And then, in precisely two hours, a week today, my beloveds are out on the loose without a single directorial / assistant directorial reassuring snicker for comfort.

Good luck everybody. And apologies in advance for my absent sense of humour. Two fifths of my beloveds will recognise it by now. Though coupled with their spiked sense of anxiety, that's little help.

What a pursuit.