Sabre-toothed tigers.  This is apparently what my physiology believes are waiting for me this weekend.  This is the only explanation for the trembling hands, scattered thoughts, and tense shoulders.  Fight or flight and all, which I suppose had its purpose in evolutionary epochs gone by.

What I’m actually going to be doing is driving up to New York with a good friend and mentor (yay), meeting the husband of a friend I haven’t seen in a couple of years (yay), having dinner and seeing George Takei’s new show on The Broad Way with another good friend tonight (yay), and then waking up at 7 AM tomorrow to go get head shots taken (AAAAAAAAAAAAACK!).

Yes.  Photos.  Of me.  All I have to do, basically, is not throw up on the photographer and he (and PhotoShop) will do all the work.  And yet… sabre-toothed tigers.  Maybe I’ll just start the day with a nice, tall Bloody Mary.  Except that I don’t like vodka.  Or tomato juice.

So, sober it is.  Wish me luck.