Any day that starts with a dash to the toilet for a NASA-style lift off is probably not going to be one of your best.
Realising that I was still too ill to go to No Way To Treat A Lady in Darlinghurst last night, I called up to try to get a refund on my ticket. The box office lady referred to the Producer who refused my refund, which I accept because I booked online a long time ago, and it was also within 24 hours of the performance. Regardless, it was $50 down the drain.
Next I get a phone call from work saying that my flight to Brisbane has been changed to Wednesday afternoon, meaning I couldn’t see Jess in The Last Five Years on Wednesday night. Determined not to miss it, I went down and saw the tech rehearsal tonight, and it’s in very good shape and audiences will love it.
Finally, and most disappointingly, Izzy and I heard today that we didn’t get the apartment-of-our-dreams. As usual, competition was strong and in the end one of the other 6 applications was chosen by the landlord. Not only is it disappointing as it was one of the few apartments that seemed liveable (and plenty more), but it was also my last chance to do any apartment hunting for some time due to work travels. I’m not a bitter person, but I hope the landlord chose a group of junkies who destroy the place. Okay, maybe I am a bitter person.
As I was walking out the door to The Last Five Years, I was pretty much destroyed by the day. As if karma seemed fit to give me a crappy Wheel of Fortune consolation prize, I found a $10 note when I turned my head. Apparently having lost $50, the apartment of my dreams and having my plans ruined equates to a tenner for pain and suffering.
“I’m not a bitter person, but I hope the landlord chose a group of junkies who destroy the place.” And that Tyson is why i heart you.