It's been that kind of week. Discombobulated is the word that comes to mind. Like the way I realized just how rushed I've been every time I stop by my own home: after coming home from an audition, mucking my way through the "wintry mix", as my phone's weather widget calls it, I opened my fridge for a snack and found that I'd left my roll of plastic wrap on the top shelf next to the cheese and tortillas.
I've been bouncing around a lot. My job is all over the city, and even when I'm only working about six hours in a day, I will sometimes end up leaving at 9am and coming home at 10pm. It's all in the commute times between clients.
And then it ends up here tonight, after one audition (and possibly a callback-- I'll know by 3pm), I'll be going to my first Halloween party of the year, this one with a TARDIS in the bar. Apparently I've got two costumes this year. Two more than I have most years. Weatherizing them might get interesting (especially the one involving a lot of silver face paint).
Then tomorrow I meet a new client. Then I help an old client. Then I'm invited to party number two, with karaoke, and possibly with my second costume, if I can somehow find a way to get a nice dressy vest, suspenders, or both. May end up making do without.
After that, Monday, the real day, which I still don't know what I'm doing for, aside from seeing more clients, and possibly the Halloween parade, which I'd like to see. The problem is, the friends I've talked to about this idea are *over* it.
And then it's November. I'll have a performance on Thursday. I'll get to bill my clients for the month. And do laundry. I'm already out of clean socks, and my underwear supply is dwindling.
...and I'm pretty sure that was thunder I just heard behind me.
Here goes.
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