Isn't anticipation wierd? I'm waiting for my lift to the gig tonight and he's late. I was ok till six fifteen when he was supposed to be here and then as each minute ticked past I found I was a little more anxious. About what I don't know. A flutter of adrenalin would kick off a train of thoughts every minute or so. I would picture myself singing - ok, not forgetting the words, ok, then somehow something would skew the picture and I wonder if it will be ok. Anxiety is so unpredictable. Ah! The lift is here. Hope we make it ok. It will be ok right?