1. Wake up.
2. Wake up for real after hitting snooze 5 times.
3. Snuggle in bed for 7 minutes.
Mmmm, Cuddly. Bamboo. Thirty per-cent…off… … …zzzz.
4. Wake up for the final time like a shot because you’re now 42 minutes behind schedule.
5. Make oatmeal (for the 12th day in a row) and PB & J for later as it cooks (you’re 28…you eat like a child…it’s fine) and pour coffee and take time with these things. You will ultimately feel warmer and fake yourself out that you’re not really all that hungry all that quickly later on if you milk this moment for all it’s worth.
6. Keep milking it. Indulge yourself in dog show-trivia and something-something-Dr. Oz-recommended and the truths about high-fructose corn syrup (Shit, I plopped a spoonful of jam into my Irish oats. How bad was that? WAS that bad? IS Peanut-Butter and Jelly a square meal or square-shaped calorie-clogged death?...Oh my God, are my thighs swelling?...). Milk this until you hear:
And, that’s right, twenty-one degrees here in Manhattan, with temperatures as low as Eleven—ELEVEN out in Islip this morning.
God. Dammit. Let’s get this over with.
7. One hour and four minutes after your alarm goes off, you begin to sprint around your apartment like a mad woman and have your face washed/teeth brushed/ass dressed/hair thrown into a puffy-frizzy something or other all within 6.1 minutes. Genius! With the quickness!
8. You panic at the notion of leaving the house without make-up, even if you do only need some concealer…and powder…and mascara because your eyes look like hell (holy crap, how OLD is this stuff?) …There! Good.
9. …That took 8 minutes. Run.
10. Your nose begins to run like a faucet on your way to the train, and you realize that you did not, in fact, shower post-yoga the night before as you had thought you did. Un-fortunate.
11. You buy a Single-Ride Ticket for the train. You do this because A) it’s cheaper—and you get paid on Thursday so you can spend the $30 on a week-long pass then, and B) because you’re only taking 2 trips today, so what difference does it make? None. That’s what.
12. Work happens.
13. Train trip #2 (…) to a spontaneous audition! YAY!
14. Friend wants coffee. She’s 25 blocks away...save the $2.50 so you can spend it on a Misto and take the trek on foot. In the sub-zeroness. Hating yourself.
15. Train trip #3 to yoga. Morning ticket-plan is already a bust.
16. Do your Vinyasa while wearing your stocking cap. It’s freezing, by god.
17. Realize 10 minutes in that that was dumb because you’re still bare foot and wearing next to nothing else and for a room that’s supposed to be hot it’s STILL only like 48-degrees in here and oh my god I almost kicked that person in the face but there’s so many PEOPLE in here I can’t help it and my hip is so not popping and WHY! CAN I NOT! BREATHE! INTO ANYTHING?!?! I am failing at yoga!!
18. …That yammering is not helping anything. Breathe.
19. …There’s still yammering. Crap.
20. Slink out past the sideways glances at your floppy yoga-unfriendly stocking cap, and pre-plan a considerable-sized donation into the yoga-collections once pay-day happens.
21. Train trip #4…
22. Fore-go original plan of a dinner of PB & J for soup with white rice (aka, HIGH-FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP for NON-WHOLE GRAIN CARBS!!!). Eff.
23. Freezing temperatures can lead to hasty decision-making…and an over-sized mug of high-fructose hot cocoa it is.
24. Buzz your way awake til 2am. Research plane tickets to Buenos Aires. Lots.
25. Doze. Briefly.
26. Realize I haven’t submitted myself for a THING today! And peruse Backstage for 45 minutes.
27. …And then Actors Access.
28. …And then the AEA-website.
29. …And then CraigsList. Which you give up on quickly.
30. …Did I shower? … …bam-boo sheeeets…thirty per-cent…off… …zzzz
My only hope is that the stocking cap of this fable is your xmas present hat.
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