funny bone

So my head feels like it’s bursting with too much to think about. Worries snowball into an icy boulder of brain cells pretty much 24/7 as I’m constantly wondering when my next job will happen.

I’m a wreck worried about this stuff. The only paychecks I get right now are from a CSI guest role last year and thankfully CSI plays non-stop on cable and airlines pretty much anytime/anywhere, so those residuals come in quarterly at least. Still, they don’t add up to enough and when I was doing calculations in my head of how I was going to pay for my gym renewal, a guy in a Jeep backed out of a driveway on Crescent Heights right into my Beemer! Did I mention I was driving while calculating?

Bummer!

My shiny black beauty had a giant ow-ie on the passenger door (Dad called it a black shiner) to the tune of $1500.00, thank you. And I’d just had it washed, ugh. Luckily it wasn’t my fault and I didn’t have to pay for it, but it’s a huge hassle to have to take your car into the body shop, grab all the gym gear, audition clothes, flats and heels and CDs and everything and THEN rent some other car, fill out the accident report, (does your state make you report any accident over $750.00 to the DMV?), tell your insurance guy and then he hits on you and it’s gross, yada yada yada.

But that was about ten days ago and I’m happy to report that I picked up my car this afternoon at the NICEST Body Shop ever, where Craig said he’d have it ready before Thanksgiving weekend and before rush hour traffic (yay, yay, yay!)

And just to prove that he kept his word, check out my photo of their clock–

Howard Brown & Sons (Olympic & Stoner)

My BMW is back to beautiful and shiny (and smells like lemon inside) and we are reunited like a long lost love affair (the funny story of the idiot rental car is for another time when I want to tell a real horror story.)

Okay, so here’s where it gets all ALMOST Hollywood ending on me:

Heading home from Spinning, I see a rare meter in front of Urth so I HAVE to take it (and I’m hungry on cue!), and inside I run into Accident Guy… and he’s all sweet and very apologetic in a not-wimpy way and he’s funny about how he recognized me from behind (I luv these yoga pants) and he’s buying stuff I like too… and it’s kind of romantic when he insists on paying for my hummus and nf cranberry muffin (and even a pumpkin pie for me to take to my Dad’s on Thanksgiving!) I’m thinking this’ll make such a great story to tell our kids someday because –

He’s definitely cuter than I remembered.

But sadly, not a meet-cute. And no happy ending.

Married.

Now THAT would be a real wreck.

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