I woke up at 7am to cars honking and people talking in overly-elevated tones. Annoyed and bleary-eyed, I grab my earplugs and shove them in. I hate when I don't put them in before I go to sleep; the sad thing is, I was really just too tired (read: lazy) to extend my arm to the decorative jar on my windowsill, remove two earplugs and insert them into my ear canal. So 7am was awesome and totally my own fault. I hate that.
I woke up at 9:24am convinced that I hadn't set my alarm. After discovering that my alarm was indeed set for 10:43am, instead of going back to sleep, I realized I was thirsty. Too tired to get out of bed, I sat there awake, pondering how many steps it would take me to get to the kitchen. (Approximately 37 steps and two foot shuffles.) 25 minutes later, I'm back in bed, hydrated, and back to sleep.
Clearly, when my alarm sounded at 10:43, I did not spring out of bed with a smile on my face, harmonizing a sweet morning melody with the birds outside my window. Suck it, Cinderella. (Yes, I'm still tired.)
The point of all of this, is that I was waking up to go to a casting at noon, which of course happened to be midtown west, AKA the middle of nowhere. Obviously, now I'm running late, and I'm in a terrible mood because I'm tired and I'm missing yoga class for this, and my phone rings. I wait for whoever it is to leave a voicemail, finish throwing on mascara, grab my keys, run out the door and listen to my message.
It was my booker. The casting was cancelled.
I hate my life.
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