Sometimes I'm simply not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, as has been proven once again.
But at least I have outside forces to blame it on.
There was the Great Travel Disaster, of course. I'm still feeling the effects of that. And a couple of bad things have been going on here, which I don't feel like writing about. Add everything up, and I simply can't get my mind right.
So of course I forgot that I have to go gather information for a story today. Outside. At a place that will be, at minimum, a 90-degree oven.
My photographer friend D. reminded me last night, in a call made after I had managed to fall asleep. I heard his message this morning at 4:30 when I woke up.
From the sound of it -- he's never been good at communicating clearly -- he seems to have messed up on his part of the deal, which was to get our press credentials, and there may be something I'll have to do about it. What that "something" is, I can't imagine, but I'm sure I'll hear about it in an hour or so.
This is an assignment I absolutely have no interest in doing anyway. I haven't had time to confirm that the magazine he spoke with actually wants a story, or if D. has, once again, heard what he wanted to hear. It is also likely that it will be as exciting to prepare and write (and, alas, read) as a bowl of room-temperature tapioca.
But if it's a "go," I have to do it. I need the money. Simple as that.
I've gone so far as to take a shower and get dressed, just in case I have to head out of here on short notice. That's a sacrifice; I'd prefer lounging around here today in cutoffs and a t-shirt.
I already know this is going to be a lousy week -- among many other things, I'm trying to find a way to complete what I was supposed to do in Raleigh-Durham since the editor, who was more sympathetic about what happened than I thought he'd be, still wants the story -- and this is not a good way to kick it off.
15 hours ago