Having been married to my husband for less than a month, I still have the inexplicable desire to make him happy. The job generally includes tasks such as packing his lunch, being on time, And decorating his bathroom with colors that would make Lisa Frank do a spit take.But mostly showing up on time.
Last night, I told my husband I would be home by 11pm after an evening performance of Les Miserable. After a series of random misadventures, I finally maze it home around 12:30, and this why today I hate the metro system.
I'm still not sure how it happened (I've lived here for two years) but after all this time, I still can't find my way from the Kennedy center to Foggy Bottom. Now, anyone who knows DC will tell you that this is not a journey to undertake on less than a full night's sleep and a full belly. Last night, I had neither.
And I was in heels.
Nevertheless, I didn't feel like waiting the 12 hours required for a taxi after a sold out show, so I hoofed it.
After 45 minutes of wandering through GWU 's many picturesque statue gardens, I completed the normally 15 minute commute by collapsing on the nearest train bench and sobbing in relief.
Only to discover that I had jumped on the wrong line in the wrong direction and was halfway to Vienna before realizing the mistake.
So, like any normal human being, I pulled out the iPod and spent the next half hour stuck in the Court House stop, swing dancing with myself and anyone who happened to walk by. I admit, my attitude towards technology in general was not at it's peak, however, I still managed to squeeze in a decent lindy before hitching my way back to the original starting point.
Shortly after midnight, my saint of a husband picked me up two stops early and carted my weary feet to bed.
I may never leave my pillows alone again.
