Saturday, November 24, 2012
The Waiting Game
So I'm sitting in my parents' living room waiting for the laundry to finish so I can start my five-hour drive back to Chicago. I didn't particularly ask for my laundry to be done, but my mother really seemed to want to do it (and god knows I don't), so I figured I might as well acquiesce. This is a process that was described as taking forty five minutes, although every human being alive knows it will take no less than an hour and a half, unless I want to throw wet t-shirts in a suitcase and be on my way. Prior to this, my mother really wanted all of us to go to the fitness center and work out; that's no less than two hours if you include the time it takes for my mother to get into an argument with the front desk girl and my father to walk on a treadmill in his jeans. We have mastered the fine art of the filibuster in this family.
I'm not particularly in a hurry to get back, though, I guess. I can't stay through tomorrow because I have rehearsal then, but it's not like I have pressing obligations in the city tonight. (Tomorrow night, of course, is the premiere of Liz & Dick on Lifetime, which is perhaps the most pressing obligation any human can have. It's an obligation to mankind, really.) I just hate driving in the dark. It makes me sleepy and there's nothing to look at. Also there's the constant fear of deer lurching out of nowhere to wrap themselves around your car. Ugh. That Newsies soundtrack is going to be working overtime tonight.
So I'm sitting in my parents' living room waiting for the laundry to finish so I can start my five-hour drive back to Chicago. I didn't particularly ask for my laundry to be done, but my mother really seemed to want to do it (and god knows I don't), so I figured I might as well acquiesce. This is a process that was described as taking forty five minutes, although every human being alive knows it will take no less than an hour and a half, unless I want to throw wet t-shirts in a suitcase and be on my way. Prior to this, my mother really wanted all of us to go to the fitness center and work out; that's no less than two hours if you include the time it takes for my mother to get into an argument with the front desk girl and my father to walk on a treadmill in his jeans. We have mastered the fine art of the filibuster in this family.
I'm not particularly in a hurry to get back, though, I guess. I can't stay through tomorrow because I have rehearsal then, but it's not like I have pressing obligations in the city tonight. (Tomorrow night, of course, is the premiere of Liz & Dick on Lifetime, which is perhaps the most pressing obligation any human can have. It's an obligation to mankind, really.) I just hate driving in the dark. It makes me sleepy and there's nothing to look at. Also there's the constant fear of deer lurching out of nowhere to wrap themselves around your car. Ugh. That Newsies soundtrack is going to be working overtime tonight.
