Yesterday I felt like I was starring in my own comedy of errors. Through a miscalculation on my part, I was scrambling to get to an important function on time: the annual Utah Film Commission luncheon.
As I hurried down the steps of our condo, I realized my blouse did not match my sweater in natural light as it had in my bedroom lighting. Oh well. No time to change.
No time to drive through the car wash, either, to rid my vehicle of accumulated grime and humongous bird droppings spattered across the windshield (I have no idea what size bird bombed our car the day before, but it had to be huge...or sick).
And no time to turn around to retrieve my cell phone left at home.
Thankfully, I arrived on time, and found what I thought was the perfect parking lot near the Hilton where the luncheon would take place. It was pre-paid parking, but the machine did not print out a receipt. I hurriedly wrote a note to display on my dash in place of the required ticket, and as I walked out of the parking area, I announced to a driver entering the lot, "The machine isn't working properly...it won't print the receipt." To which he held up the receipt it had given him.
As I walked to the luncheon, I realized the parking lot was much farther from the hotel than I thought. Instead of one block, I walked 3.5 blocks, in heels. The big toes of both feet worked their way through my brand new nylons (yes, I wear nylons...I need the control top, okay?).
I entertained myself while walking, with thoughts about the Montana Film Office (MFO) and the Utah Film Commission (UFC). Good thing they are not the Utah Film Office...UFO.
Finally. I arrived. Checked in at the registration table, where I was offered parking validation...but not for where I parked...of course.
Time to mingle. Made a new friend; hugged old friends. Then I saw someone from the "who's who" of the Utah film industry. As I approached to ask a question about an upcoming event, he called me by name, "Hi, Trudy!"
Oh my goodness! He knew my name! We've talked briefly at previous functions this year, but wow, what a memory. He made my day by remembering my name.
Then I sat down, straightened my mismatched shirt, and got a glimpse of my name tag displayed across my chest. Oh yeah.
And that, folks, is how my day continued. What have I said before? Life, it's what comedy is made of.