(heavy sigh)

Warning: This one is not so cheery, but its honest.

Wednesday could possibly be the worst day in recent memory. I was repeatedly bashed over the head with the reality that no matter what, I cannot do everything I really want to do and subsequently I let people down, I disappoint. I don't mean this to sound in any way arrogant and that I'm so popular I couldn't possibly accept all invitations. NO! I mean the simplest thing, I feel like there are just not enough express trains to get me to everything and I certainly can't afford cabs. I'm not so in love with NYC at this moment.

Wednesday morning, I rose to the humidity trying to slowly begin my glorious day off. However, immediately (and foolishly) I checked my email on my phone and boom 2 hours later my quiet morning is gone. Apparently I had a lot of emailing to do, castings to submit to and things to mail out! Now I'm rushing off to catch a noon yoga class, but because I've only ever been to this studio once (I visit every studio in Manhattan to do their intro special, then never go back- I'm a creative poor person) So I'm running into the class. Having only spared enough time for a banana all morning, my blood sugars is a little low. Needless to say, this was not an easy class.

Upon departing the yoga studio, still sweating from the humidity- and to be perfectly honest, I'm a sweater- I rush off to UCB for my improv class. Now I'm not sure at all how I managed to be a tiny bit late to this class but I was. The magic of navigating an unfamiliar part of Manhattan! Class was fun, but it was one of those "learning" days for me... in other words I didn't feel funny at ALL, which is rough when you're doing improv. Ah, well, shake it off, right? This is where the day really takes a turn for the worse.

Now in my "yes" mentality of life, I have double-booked myself. I'm supposed to have dinner with my dear friends in Brooklyn AND attend an art show with portraits inspired by a theater piece I co-wrote and performed a year ago. I thought maybe if I rush out to Brooklyn for cocktails then I can be back for the show, OH AND I got an email to be a reader for screenplay from a splendid actress from a theater group I've started meeting with! So I'm rushing to the wine shop to grab a bottle to... I dunno... FLY to Brooklyn so I can be back by 7 to Chelsea then midtown by 8. Ambitious, I know. Everything came to a screeching halt when I realized, in my haste to leave UCB after class, I left my sweatshirt with my house keys in the pocket. ________ insert your expletive of choice!

There goes Brooklyn, but maybe I can make the art show. I call my friends in Brooklyn and say maybe I can meet up with them after the reading, if they're still out. This seems to appease them... phew! I then rush back up to UCB only to find my sweatshirt was kindly picked up by one of my fellow classmates. Thoughtful, yes. Helpful, no. Through the wonder of mass emailing, I found out my sweatshirt was safe and sound on the Upper East Side (I live in West Harlem) BUT on the bright side, its with someone.

I rush over to the show and literally walk in, find my gorgeous photographer friend, 'ooooh and ahhhh' at the photographs, kiss her cheek and walk out the door. I had to rush over to East 43rd for the screenplay reading. This part was actually the lone bright spot of the entire day. I just have to pause and give reverence to the part of my day that I loved. We read on top of a 10 story building right by the United Nations overlooking the East River. Despite the dark nature of the screenplay, it was perfect. We had a discussion afterward about the script, which pushed my departure time back to 11 p.m. Still having to go retrieve my sweatshirt from the East 80's, I lamely texted my Brooklyn darlings with my regrets- to which I got no reply, not a good sign.

My dear roommate accompanied me to the sweatshirt safehouse and we decided to venture on a bus for a ride home. Good in theory and maybe at that hour it truly was the fastest way home, but it took us an hour to go from E 86th st to W 140th st. Sheesh!

The only time I felt fully present and not frustratedly out of sorts was on that rooftop, reading a screenplay... is that indicative of something, do you think?