Burnout. The Met season ends; Sieglinde can barely walk up to her box. Only one Turandot, one Orfeo, and one Trittico (yes, she's seeing just one!) left, then Sieglinde'll begin her annual baseball sabbatical. She had planned on doing a Kirschenbaum this season, and she came really, really close: by season's end, she would have seen all of the Met's productions save three: the Tosca (which she sees practically every other year anyway), the First Emperor (sold-out!?! wtf) the Zauberfloete (believe it or not, she hasn't seen the Taymor yet ... ever). Yeah, she alse hates the way opera takes over like that. (OK, she'll have her epidural now.)