SassyBlonde

I think the Powers That Be are trying to tell me something. So far, in the course of the last week, I have broken my toe, broken my sewing machine, run a tight schedule of finishing a bridesmaid's dress, and as of today, the luck (or lack thereof) continues.

This morning I woke up a little late and scurried around, taping my toe, showering, and getting generally ready to go to my show in less than thirty minutes. Until I got around to packing up my sax for the show. Or should I say, my friend's sax. (Mine had to be taken to the shop, because it was leaking. See what I'm already up against?) My mouthpiece was nowhere to be found. Remember when I lost my keys before I left for a matinee that time? Same deal.

No. Fucking. Where.

Sooooooo, I ran out to the two-blocks-away-music-store-that-is-a-major-danger-to-my-wallet and proceeded to quick pick a new mouthpiece, new ligature, and high-tail it out of there, but not before I saw one of my favorite colleagues, who I respect and revere and love playing next to.

Did I mention I didn't have time to put on any makeup of fix my hair, thinking I would do it in the car on the way to the theater? And that I threw on my black yoga pants and a tee-shirt (read: looking a little sloppy) and forgot to lint-roll myself (read: now sloppy while earing the visual equivalent of fourteen cats)? Right-o.

She was really nice and polite, and I was obviously freaking out, so I got the hell out of there as fast as I could (thanks, Annelisa-- you rock) and back in my car to get on the road.

But wait, we're not done here. It gets better.

About ten feet before the toll plaza I realized that I'd left my EZPass on the kitchen counter. And I had exactly $1.37 for a two-dollar toll.

Frak.

In short, by the time I got home from the show I was more than ready for beers with my buddy. (Shout-out-- did I mention tonight that I love you girl?)

I need a fucking vacation.