So since I don't ever work in the mornings (PUHLEASE - I'm an artiste (HA)), I was given the task of shoveling the driveway for the third time in 20 hours. Because I live in the Twin Cities. Where we get 60 inches of snow by the beginning BEGINNING of February. Disgusting. I'm over you, Winter. Go away.
Anywho. I was very pleased with myself because I not only shoveled the driveway, but I also chipped off those stupid snow-tire-tracks that happen when you drive over the freshly fallen stuff. You know? The ones that turn to ice and make shoveling 17 times harder? Yes, those. So I was finally done and I trudged inside to the laundry room where I took off my snow gear (including my onesie snow suit, which is awesome). And I am rounding the corner to go into the kitchen when I hear what sounds like a medium-sized crash bang boom. Oh shit, I think. Some hoodlum has sneaked into the house while I was out playing in the snow and now I'm going to be assaulted. Great. Happy Tuesday! So I tentatively say "hello?"....as if the burglar is going to recognize my friendliness and decide to not burgle me. No response. I go to the front hall where I left my phone on the table, grab it, and go towards the basement where I thought the sound came from.
Halfway down the stairs, I hear the sound again. Only this time, it is much louder and much closer....because it is coming from my pocket and it is accompanied by a little 3-second vibration. I squeal out of fright and promptly fall all the way down the stairs. Sporty, I know.
Oh! THAT is what my new phone sounds like when it gets a text message. GAH.
I just got a new phone and was unaware that my text-message-ring-tone was apparently the sound of someone's house being broken into. Interesting. I'll have to change that later. Its official. I'm a total spaz.
Now on to some voice coachings, my second day of Millie auditions and Bare rehearsal. Come on, Bruised Ego, its time to go to work. Here's to hoping that your Tuesday (and the rest of your life) is more graceful than mine. =]
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