I Wake Up in the Mornin' Feelin' Fine...

My alarm clock went off a little earlier this morning. Candie, the main receptionist, is taking the day off and they asked me to cover the front desk for her. No problem.

Only I wasn't counting on waking up feeling as lousy and as exhausted as I can remember feeling since, well, this time last year.

When the cold north wind begins a'blowin', that can only mean one thing for me: Allergies. Really bad allergies. But not just of the runny nose variety. We're talking about the kind that sucks the very marrow from your bones and plays tiddlywinks on your brains.

The fact that yesterday may have been the most hectic and stressful day I've experienced since working here on the 42nd Floor probably didn't help too much either. Oh yeah--and the audition last night.

I don't know WHAT came over me at that audition. I mean, I nailed the monologues and felt very confident. I guess I was feeling that swirly feeling of fatigue though. You know. Your eyelids feel impossibly heavy so you kind of overcompensate and open your eyes REALLY wide to keep from falling asleep on your feet. The director asked at one point if I was comfortable doing stage combat and maybe some falls because the character is killed at one point.

"Sure!" I said. "Just as long as it's not real!"

A hush fell over the little audition room.

I wanted so badly to say, "Wow. That joke was really lame, wasn't it?"

So I woke up in the mornin' feelin' not-quite-as-fine-as-I'd-like-to-be-in-fact-I'd-really-like-to-call-in-sick-today.

But no--I'm the breadwinner in my apartment, so rise I must, once again, to the 42nd Floor.

I got here feeling about three times as sleepy as usual. I misjudged the morning traffic (there wasn't any--go fig) so I got in at a few minutes to 8, even though I wasn't due in until 8:15.

I was standing at the receptionist desk turning on the computer when Consuela stepped off the elevator. She looked up at me and took a half-step backwards.

Consuela: Wh-what are you doing here?

Me: What?

Consuela: You're not supposed to be here until 8:15!

Me: Oh, yeah, well...

Consuela: Is everything okay? I can't believe you'd be here this early.

Me: (thinking "Oh, I know! I'll be silly/charming and do that half-asleep 'it's way too early in the morning for me to be functioning' thing! That one's always good for a laugh!) Mmm huuwhaaahuuuh...

Consuela: (freezes) Wh...at's going on here?

Me: (Holy crap! She's not laughing! Oh, well, if I keep doing it, she'll figure out that I'm just being silly...) Ooohh,y'knowwww... it'swaaaaaay tooo eeeeearly

Consuela: (deep concern with a hint of panic) Oh my gosh--are you okay?!

Me: (Okay, she really doesn't get it. Drop the act, Forky. Snap out of it quickly and she'll realize that you were just trying to be funny) Yeah, I'm fine.

Consuela: (dead serious) What's wrong with you?

Me: (Sweet Jebus! Calm her down, Forky!) Oh! Oh, nothing, Consuela. I was just acting. You know: To be or not to be. Ha ha...

Consuela: Oh my gosh--I was gonna say. You really scared me for a second.

Me: Wow...I really didn't think I'd get that reaction.

Consuela: (still confused, still slightly panicked) What are you doing here so early?

Me: (Okay, now I'm confused) I'm due in at 8:15. It's 8:00 now.

Consuela: I know! Candie never gets in this early.

Me: (Holy carp--this woman is off her nut) Oh, you know. I just misjudged the morning traffic. There wasn't a whole lot this morning.

Consuela: (breathing a sigh of relief) Oh. Whew. Okay.

Me: (turning my head slightly and mouthing "Good God!")

Consuela: (suddenly laughing) Ha ha! You really ARE an actor!

Me: (stunned, confused, reaching for the scissors)

***

Sorry guys. Apparently someone swapped out my daily vitamins for Honest McGee's Long-Lasting Stupid Pills: Guaranteed to trip up your tongue, make improvisation impossible, cause the most seasoned comedian to be as un-funny as a heart attack, and grow hair even on a billiard ball!