Alright, so let me break this down for you.
1. My family is planning a trip and it's been super stressful. We've had some problems this week.
2. I have two exams this week (one for interviewing; the other a nice 4 hour chunk of histology, molecular biology, biochem and immuno).
3. I was supposed to get a free weekend after these massive exams, but my other classes like ethics and stats gave us homework. No free weekend for me.
4. I'm on my dag nab period.
5. I applied for a position with a volunteering organization that I REALLY wanted. I actually had to rank my preferences from 1 to 20 on what I'd prefer to have as a job on my application.
Here is how I applied:
_2__ Staff coordinator
_20_ Dog catcher
_Not interested___ Fundraising
I put a note in my application that said, "I'd really not like to do fundraising. Anything else works fine."
Well, I found out this week that the position I was offered was created especially for me. Guess what it was?
Yes, they created a special position for me specifically in the ONE area (out of 20) I asked not to get put into.
It is a perfect storm.
So I don't know if I told you all, but I got into that singing thing I applied to. Yay! And I'm super psyched to be a part of it; we have a lot of fun.
Our first gig was this week. And it was pretty prestigous gig. At an art museum. We sang in front of 500 doctors and medical staff.
We arrived at about 4:30pm, and began warming up (in a freakin' art gallery!). I'm pretty sure we sounded the best we're ever going to sound with those high ceilings. Sound check was at 5:30pm. Awesome.
We go back to the room to wait. We were told that we'd get some food before the show. We ask for food.
"No, no, see, you get food AFTER you sing. The whole idea is that you will sing to us, and then you will join the party for drinks and food. Everyone will want to meet you and shake your hands. You'll see."
"No, but see, we're pretty hungry and none of us have eaten, and our performance isn't until 7:20pm, and that's if everything goes on time..."
I ate lunch at 11 AM. Now, normally, not a big deal to not eat until 7 PM, but, uh, I went weight lifting that afternoon. For two hours. Serious lifting. Then I came to the gig. Where we were supposed to get food.
Someone shares a Fiber One bar with me, and someone sneaks into the event to grab a plate full of food that is shared between 20 people.
7:20pm rolls around and we are brought backstage, waiting and ready. Where we wait until 8:45pm. Mostly in silence because we didn't want to ruin the LONGEST SPEECHES EVER. Also, did I mention we are standing? And I'm wearing Cole Haan shoes? Sure, they have Nike air in them, but come on! Also, I haven't eaten in 10 hours now. Let me reiterate. Standing. 1.5 hours. Silence.
Now, start referring back to #1-5. The pressure is building.
So we sing, yay, everyone claps. I don't really give a crap though, because I'm pretty hungry and I can smell the buffet from the stage. We leave the stage, shake some hands and finally make it to the buffet table.
I get a (tiny appetizer) plate of food (which was more like appetizers, but whatever) and scarf it down. It's been about 7 minutes since we left the stage now.
I go back up to get a second helping. I grab a plate and turn to find the catering staff there. A woman rips the plate out of my hand and says, "You can't have anymore." Then, they proceed to pack up the entire buffet line of food in front of me.
So by invited "to share in the party", you meant "haha, just kidding, you should see your face!"
I'm pretty livid now. All I want to do is go home.
When we came to our performance, we were told to park in the staff parking lot. I asked the parking lot attendants, "Which parking lot is the staff parking lot?"
"Oh, this one is, come on in."
Gate opens, I go in.
So now, it's dark, I'm hungry, weak and semi-delirious. I stumble out to my car (along with other people who are leaving the party) and drive my car to the gate.
"Where's your ticket?"
"Your parking ticket."
"Uh, I don't have one."
"That'll be $14."
"Wait, what? I just sang in there, I'm a performer, not a guest."
"I can't let you out without a ticket."
She actually makes the line of 10 cars behind me BACK UP, one by one, so that I can pull back into my same exact parking spot I just left, and look for my non-existent ticket.
I'm back where I started and KABOOM.
I completely lose it.
I begin ranting across the parking lot, yelling, "I need to get out of this parking lot. For God sakes this is ridiculous. I just performed at this event and now you want $14 D*MN DOLLARS? FINE, YOU WANT THE STUPID MONEY? TAKE IT. TAKE IT!
JUST LET ME OUT OF THIS PARKING LOT. I'LL DO ANYTHING TO GET OUT OF THIS PARKING LOT. HOW CAN I PROVE TO YOU THAT I DESERVE TO GET OUT OF THIS PARKING LOT? HERE, LET ME GO GET SOME PROOF THAT I JUST SANG AT A FREAKIN CONCERT AND THAT I BELONG HERE. OR, YOU KNOW, YOU COULD KEEP ME TRAPPED HERE FOR-GODD*MN-EVER."
I'm now screaming. And then I start sobbing. I'm standing outside of my car, in my white coat, papers strewn all over my car as I tried to find a ticket.
I'm fairly certain I scared the crap out of the attendants.
"Okay, miss, let us get you a ticket. Hold on a sec."
I'm shaking and completely defeated. I don't even care anymore. If I hadn't gotten a ticket, it's a toss up whether I would have slept on the grass near my car, or drove through the botanical gardens to get out of that parking lot. I'm not sure which one my deranged mind would have latched onto.
Anyway, I drove home, cried a bit, and went to bed.
And that ladies and gentlemen, has been my week.