performance anxiety

I've leapt before I looked again. My friend who's helping co-ordinate next weekend's festival was chatting with me, and casually asked me if I wanted to "do something" on the stage that night as part of their Evening Cabaret of Weirdness. And I said "Sure!"

What the frell am I going to do for a performance? I'm going on between a baton twirler and a burlesque dancer; it'll be a room full of jaded and hip artsy-types; and I'll be in a vegetable costume. Jo-Jo the Dancing Six-Foot Artichoke. Gah. Gah. Gah.