Going to Washington DC is always a delightful challenge for those of used to cities whose streets are laid out in a way that makes even the slightest bit of sense. Then you have to wonder about where you are supposed to park when there are no parking garages in sight and pedestrians keep walking out in the middle of the road. Also, there are entire sections of town that have a stop sign every block and when you are in a hurry to get to your audition, it can be challenging. Because, inevitably, you are behind a person in an ancient truck whose motor is barely still working and it takes about 12 minutes for the car to restart itself after stopping at the stop signs every block.
So it is a blessed discovery to make when you call and find out that the audition venue actually has a parking lot.
By this time, you have practically killed several pedestrians, given yourself an aneurysm (extra points for correct spelling), nearly wrecked your car, and dodged a speeding ticket.
It has already been a long morning.
Did I mention I got up at 6:30 am?
So you run in, change into the dress you spent the better part of an hour ironing the night before (when you should have been sleeping), run up the stairs to the warm up room, sing through those few measures that always feel sluggish or insecure, fill out your paper, run back down, try to catch your breath for five seconds, and then: YOU'RE ON.
Ready, set, sing.
Then, you thank the panel, the pianist, and the good lord for letting you make it there on time.
You change back to your civvies, get in your car, exit the parking lot and promptly get horribly lost again, making it home just in time to remember that there is a street fair in your neighborhood and you're going to have to circle for about 20 minutes before you find a place to park.
But all is not lost, because you have gotten home before your voice student arrives.
So I teach awhile and then remember that my in-laws are in town for Mother's Day and they're here to spend time with me!
The door opens, and they arrive with, oddly enough, a cake in the shape of a lamb. Someone please correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure Easter was two weeks ago. We cut and eat the cake, starting with the haunches. I field questions about why I didn't cut it's head first. Then I realize that the cake probably actually is two weeks old, and a bit past it's prime. So we are sitting there eating old cake, looking at the leftover head and shoulders of a lamb.
Then three-thirty rolls around and it is high time we went out for dinner.
By 5, we've eaten dinner and are ready for bed.
For once, I am just exhausted enough for this time table to have made a lot of sense.