Gypsy.
I like when things happen quickly.
Two days before my super-sweet FELA! laundry job ended, I got a call from VDK in Chicago. Her current show needed to be built from scratch--namely some bear suits--and she wanted to know if I could come and help. I didn't even hesitate. "I finish tomorrow, I can be on the road to you the next day." The catch was that she couldn't give me a place to stay, since she is the proverbial guy on the couch in her current apartment--it was okay, we'd had this conversation months ago and I had assured her that if she needed me, I could find a place to stay.
So during my between-show break, I looked into places to rent before recalling that one of my wild and crazy exes currently lives in The Windy City. I phoned him on the spot and he seemed perfectly fine with hosting me for a week and a half. On two days notice. People are way too nice to me.
Sunday night I finished work, got home, packed, slept. And on Monday, I drove fourteen hours from DC to Chicago in one shot. Showed up to the warehouse ready to build some bear suits on Tuesday morning. The situation could not have worked out better: the wild and crazy ex in question lived a mere mile and a half from our warehouse workspace, and I put in 75 hours in ten days--and experienced a heap of amazing food, to boot.
Currently, I'm winding down in Cleveland. Tomorrow is upstate New York to see a camp friend's play, and next week is back to Baltimore to slave away for the new opera company.
Seriously, when did this become my life?
Two days before my super-sweet FELA! laundry job ended, I got a call from VDK in Chicago. Her current show needed to be built from scratch--namely some bear suits--and she wanted to know if I could come and help. I didn't even hesitate. "I finish tomorrow, I can be on the road to you the next day." The catch was that she couldn't give me a place to stay, since she is the proverbial guy on the couch in her current apartment--it was okay, we'd had this conversation months ago and I had assured her that if she needed me, I could find a place to stay.
So during my between-show break, I looked into places to rent before recalling that one of my wild and crazy exes currently lives in The Windy City. I phoned him on the spot and he seemed perfectly fine with hosting me for a week and a half. On two days notice. People are way too nice to me.
Sunday night I finished work, got home, packed, slept. And on Monday, I drove fourteen hours from DC to Chicago in one shot. Showed up to the warehouse ready to build some bear suits on Tuesday morning. The situation could not have worked out better: the wild and crazy ex in question lived a mere mile and a half from our warehouse workspace, and I put in 75 hours in ten days--and experienced a heap of amazing food, to boot.
Currently, I'm winding down in Cleveland. Tomorrow is upstate New York to see a camp friend's play, and next week is back to Baltimore to slave away for the new opera company.
Seriously, when did this become my life?