1/4 year's resolution...

11:11am

90210 on the TV. Trying to figure out what season it is. Steve and the Asian girl already have the baby.

Getting ready for the massive overhaul of my life. Have decided to move sleep down the list of priorities in my life. For example, I got home last night at 1:30, and didn't fall asleep until at least 3am, but I still got up at 10:30 so that I can work out.

Coffee coffee coffee.

Next up on the agenda: Jump rope to bring up the heart rate, crunches to flatten out the tummy, leg lifts to tone the thighs, and some stretches.

John wants to actually work in an Apache Dance during one of the scene changes in Danny and the Deep Blue Sea. An Apache Dance is an acrobatic and violent dance in which the woman basically gets thrown around for four and a half minutes. And as totally awesome I think that idea is, I can't help but be a little nervous. Most of what I've seen on You-Tube or depicted in paintings remind me of forties style swing dance. Ladies get flipped upside down and spun and twirled. It's one of those remind-me-to-wear-Spankies-under-my-skirt dances.

So what worries me is that I'm not particularly flexible. Or athletic. Or graceful.

And this whole year I've had the schedule at Broadway Dance Center taped up on my wall so that I can take a class if I want to, but I haven't taken a class there in a good six months. And it occurred to me, as it always does at times like this, that if I had just GONE to dance class like, twice a month for the past six months, I would be MILES ahead where I am right now.

Douche.

Man that's some good coffee.

So in the spirit of my phone conversation with Sarah the other night, in which we were discussing what it takes to actually make it in the world of theatre, I have decided to sacrifice sleep.

I mean, I've always been a bit of a pussy when it comes to getting my forty winks. I sleep like Jenny when she shows up at Forrest Gump's house after his mama dies and he's cuttin' that grass fo' free. But I have friends that have two jobs and work doubles weekly and don't really complain. And I don't see any reason why I can't do that if i just get used to funtioning on less sleep.

When I was in High School I used to get up at 6am every day, and I'd be up doing homework until at least midnight. Granted, sometimes I had to take a power-nap round five-ish, but I could probably work that into my schedule now.

Okay, McNally. Let's lay down the ground rules.

1. Stop sleeping late just because you can. Just because you don't work until 3:30pm, 4 days a week doesn't mean you can sleep until 1:30, sleepily wipe your eyes, throw your hair in a pony-tail and march out the door, bleary-eyed while most people are heading home on the same train on which you're heading to work.

2. It's fun to go out with the waiters after work, but let's limit it to once a week if even that. Saturday night is a good night. But while you're in a show, let's cut the shit.

3. Work out, drink water, and watch 90210

4. Dance classes.

But above all, no matter what happens, I am not giving up Oreos. They can pry them from my cold, dead, fat hands.