"Cuz you had a bad day, you're taking one down..."
Wah... wah... waaaaahhhhh...
So. Thursday. You remember the book "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"? Or whatever the kid's name was. Well I wasn't attempting to buy Chucks, but I feel like I had the adult equivalent of that day on Thursday. I began the day with a... call it a revelation. A really bad one, the details of which I won't go into here. Let's just say I received information that both depressed and upset me to an absurd degree. So I've got shit on my mind, to say the least, as I drive to work with Matt Hanna. The workday proceeded pretty much as usual, which is to say it wasn't fun and I spoke to morons and arrogant jerks all day. The musical equivalent of a soccer-mom is my typical caller: women who think their children are special, are the next Yo-Yo Ma, and don't understand why I can't bend over backwards to solve their stupid, irrelevant problems. The stress of customer service is slightly aggravated by the fact that I work about five feet away from my boss, who hears every mistake I make, and who listens in on every conversation I have with my co-workers. Fun.
Anyway, I left work early to go to CVS to get a prescription filled. When I picked it up fifteen minutes later, the lady said "That'll be one-hundred twenty-five dollars." Long story short, my insurance has been canceled. They've done it before. I just didn't think they'd do it again.
So, after adding pissed-off to the upset and depressed I was already feeling, I head to the callbacks for Spelling Bee. Nothing like going to a callback when you're pissed-off, depressed, upset, and nervous as hell because your GIRLFRIEND is the director.
Needless to say, the music section went horribly. I was so tense and sore that my throat barely worked and I couldn't sing well at all. I even had to bow out of one of the roles I was called back for because I knew I couldn't hit the notes. We began the cold reads. I went up for one, did it (poorly, I thought), and then stepped off the stage.
Now, when I say, "stepped off the stage," I mean I literally stepped off of it. I do it all the time, it's only a five foot drop. But my mental state made me fairly unfocused and I landed it... poorly. Adrenaline got me out of the auditorium into the hall, where I slid down the wall and cried, hugging my leg. No more callback for me, thanks. Skip ahead thirty minutes and we find me in the hospital, again finding out that my insurance is inactive and I'm therefore going to have to pay for the entire trip- x-rays, bandages, etc. Awesome. Thankfully it's not broken, it's just an awful sprain. This was confirmed again by my doctor friend who I visited the next day (I had to miss work, losing even more money in the process). Looks like at least a month before I'm well enough to walk around again.
The funny thing is that no one actually told me to break a leg for my audition. But I did get the part.
I'm grateful it's not broken. I'm grateful to have gotten the part. But still, what a crappy day.