It's a chorus of rabid rednecks chanting over the sound of my brain flying at 500 miles an hour with thoughts like:
Angels? Angels. I have to figure out what style Angel we're talking here? Like Bible Angel? Victorias Secret Angel? Castiel?
Mary...disco Mary? Right? Mary should be sparkly and pretty.
Heels. Man heels. Loads of Man heels. At least two pairs...
Adult Babies? Wigs? Adam and Eve should be decked in leaves. Stripper gear. I need stripper gear. I need to make sure Steves head is buffed. Nurses? Are there Nurses? Am I giving it all away?
My trusty sidekick in all of costuming has abandoned me for greener pastures and to pursue amazing opportunities (Get it Girl.) which leaves me to drive myself crazy and put clothes on everyone. We have 14 days until the first rehearsal. Time to get it.
Marcy this one goes out to me and you: