So we closed Joseph last night and like any show, it's bittersweet of course. It was probably one of the most fun shows I've ever done, and I'll miss the cast immensely. Hopefully, we'll keep in touch. :]
This morning, to add a cherry to the suckfest sundae of my futile existence, my car died. Like, DIED. It was so dead that the gauges wouldn't even hold their own needle-weight. So I called my dad. Seven times. When those attempts failed, I resorted to pleading mercy and help from one of the neighbor's painters, Melanie (who by the way is a total badass since I don't know jack squat about fixing cars). However, jumper cables didn't conquer this one until dad came home with the Cadillac.
I went to strike the set shortly after having my car revived and Miss Elizabeth Barry pointed out that, indeed, my head and tail lights were on. Henceforth, sometime driving home last night, I flipped on the light switch while trying to engage the turn signal or brights. This, apart from being embarassing because I'm a moron, is relaxing because it means that my adorable moody bastard of a car wasn't being so random afterall. Thank you much, Miss Barry. :]
Nothing to do now but wait for my voice to heal. I move out in T-minus seven days...and life is life.