On a bus somewhere between Nashville and Baltimore: It's the night before our last rehearsal before our first show. I'm in the front lounge of the bus, listening to wind snap by the windows and the faint radio of the driver. Everyone else is asleep, but I'm online (thank you, bus wireless internet), double checking flight confirmations and sending an email I just remembered I needed to get out. Plus, I just can't seem to sleep.
I have what I like to refer to as Sunday Stomach. Growing up, every Sunday night before class started again on Monday morning (especially at the beginning of a new school year), I would get stomach pangs which I now understand to be anxiety before something new gets underway again. My fear that I did all of my homework, my fear that I would remember to bring all of my things with me, my fear that I would succeed... it was all there, wrapped in a little ball of fury, churning in my stomach. This went on for years -- grade school, high school, and even college intermittently (my classes didn't always begin on Mondays, luckily).
And now, as an adult, as a professional, as an authority figure... I still have Sunday Stomach. Guess it's nice that I still care what I do and want to make sure I do it well, but I'm discovering it's definitely worse on a bus.