5, 6, 7, 8 - WAI-KI-KIIII!
My eyes ping open and I flop from sleep to wake still mouthing the lyrics of our opening number. Like I did yesterday, and the day before that, and every day for the last three months now I think about it.
My name is Ryan and I am suffering from BIAMS: being in a musical syndrome. Symptoms include doing tiny dance steps while walking round Sainsbury's, singing weird bits of harmonies really loud on the way to work - people notice and pull their kids out of the way of me, I've stopped caring - and saying weird things like 'I can't tonight, I've got to look after my voice' - all in the hope that you might get it right for once and the MD won't look at you with that 'poor sod, he didn't know what he was signing up for' expression on his face.
I love this show, I really do, but by God it has kicked the living shit out of me. The other night I was so tired I mistakenly shouted one of my offstage lines in the voice of an elderly pensioner from Surrey. My character is from Brooklyn. It was an unusual moment.
However we're nearly there. It's nearly done. We've nearly got the finished product. All ill need to worry about is singing the right notes, making my salute not look like someone from Dad's Army (a particular affliction) and getting my pants off okay every night.
Only 2 more days of changes left. I settle into bed and feel myself slowly nodding off. Then, just as I fall into sleep...
5, 6, 7, 8,
RIGHT FACE
SHOULDER ARMS
WAI-KI-KIIIII!
Posted by Ryan Sampson (Private Angelo Maggio) on 21/10/2013 @ 12:46hrs