?

Log in

No account? Create an account
 
 
22 June 2003 @ 08:10 pm
Why sleep-deprived-me is bad.  
My silly, absurd fog-addled brain. I know it's due to an insane schedule and the resulting lack of sleep, but still... Yesterday morning I awoke at 4:30 in order to get to work (and the HP insanity) at my bookstore. It ended up being an absolute hoot - great kids, and both CBS and CNN news crews there as well. I got out of there at 11 a.m., headed up to faire and rode for about two hours. It rained on us, of course, but we did a lot of work on tiltyard games and then LOTS of passes with our shields. Walked the list on foot five times, shield on and lance lowered, resulting in an alarming burning sensation in my right bicep and residual aches today. Then it was home to shower and get ready to head back into NYC for friends' wedding. Fun time, but I was already tired, and three glasses of wine made me so very indescribably loopy that I left my coat there and did not realize it until we got home. I called the theatre today-they have it and I can get it this week.

Now, here's where the brain fog really kicks in: Don and I both had scene rehearsals in the city today. He had to be there at 10, I didn't start until noon. So it was decided that he would take an early train in and I would drive in later, hopefully having been able to sleep in a bit. I had strange, vivid dreams about riding in on the train, trying to read my new HP book. I was dragged out of this dream by the sound of a car alarm. I rose and peered, puffy-eyed, out of the window to make certain it was not my car. It was not. I fell back into bed and into sleep. When I arose at about 9 a.m., I was still sleepy. "I'd better double check what time my train is," I thought, and found there was a train heading for Hoboken at 10:39. Great. I showered and packed all the junk I need for rehearsals. As I slid my scripts into my briefcase, I noticed there was a lot of spare room. Hmmm... why would that be? Oh, no. My wallet was missing. I tore the house apart looking for it to no avail. Then it hit me that it might have fallen out at the wedding. I called the Duke theater. No luck. "Maybe it fell out in the car last night!" Only problem was, I couldn't call Don to ask as he'd left his cell phone at home. I called Kelley instead and left her a surprisingly calm message asking her to tell Don to go check in the car, wherever he had parked it.

Anyone picking up on the basic flaw in the logic already? Well, I still hadn't. Luckily I had a ten dollar bill in my jeans pocket to pay for my train ticket. I grabbed my keys so that I could run to where Don had left the car to check it if he was busy and hustled myself to the train station. I sat in a dismal drizzle and waited for said train. Just as the bell started to ring, there was a tiny break in the brain-fog. "Hey," I thought, "I have the car keys." After what seemed an interminable moment, I had another thought. "The keys to the car that is parked right outside my house. At this moment." I got up just as the train pulled in and walked back up the street. LO, there was my car.. the very car I had seen when I peered out the window during the car-alarm-incident. I unlocked it and LO again... there was my wallet on the passenger's seat. I left another message for Kelley ("Cancel that first message. I'm an idiot. Please don't tell Don.") and drove into the city where I promptly told Don all about my stupidity.

Some days its tough to be me. Or, more accurately, just plain embarrassing.
 
 
I feel: embarrassedembarrassed
I hear: Dixie Chicks' "Home"
 
 
 
Bird on a Wingcaragana_leaves on June 22nd, 2003 05:46 pm (UTC)
Eeep! Poor Kelly! I'm glad you found your wallet. *hugs* We all do stuff like that sometimes, but it really sucks. I have nothing intelligent to say, except thank you for being so sweet about my LJ rants and for still wanting to meet the author of such odd stuff.