5 - franticness, facials, and feasting!

I hadn't ever been so stressed about relaxation.

'Twas a fairly ordinary day today - a good class, a bad class, some squeezed-in rehearsals, speaking in front of the whole school again (sooo not stressful the second time around), and a skipped breakfast. But the light at the end of the roller-coaster tunnel was my pre-paid super-cheap Facial Club facial in Fitzroy. Ahhhh.

I had hoped to catch a lift with a colleague who lives in the city, but I discovered after school that she had left early. Then my other colleague who travels that was was in an endless tizz about her social life being too busy. Poor thing. So at the last minute she pulled out of giving me a lift, leaving me rushing to get the only bus that headed into the city.

I caught it, as it was running quite late. Oh, and it was raining heavily. Of course. So I sat on the one empty seat (not until the bus started again with a lurch, landing me in an Asian couple's squishy groceries.. Nice work as always, Public Transport System.) and jolted slowly through the suburbs until reaching the final leg of my journey. I pressed the buzzer and waited for the bus to stop.

And waited. And waited. And watched in horror as the bus gaily sailed past my connecting tram, and hurtled enthusiastically along to the next stop. I got up, I pointed out to the driver that he had missed the stop I needed, I asked if he could let me out at the next lights, and received "No, we're not allowed".I fought back the anger and stressed tears. F%&$!

I leaped off the bus when it finally pulled over at the next stop, and started trudging (in heels) back up towards my tram - a good 500+ metres uphill. My phone alerted me to the time - 5pm, facial time. Panic! I hoped and hoped that the salon would call and I could reassure them that I was on my way, I hoped that I wasn't the last customer, I hoped I wouldn't arrive just in time to see the lights flicker out and the rear door close...

I reached my tram, and jumped aboard. And waited. For a good three minutes the tram just sat there, before reluctantly closing its doors and trundling up the street. At last I saw my salon, and waited for the tram to stop at the next intersection. Traffic. Argh! The tram was perhaps three metres from its designated stop, but since there were cars waiting for the lights to change, it refused to allow my escape until it could inch those few feet forward. Eventually it spat me out, and I fled from the vehicle, all but running to my salon, crossing my fingers that I wasn't too late (15 minutes, at this point)...

Hallelujah! The lights were on, the sign was welcoming, and the door unlocked! Despite remaining on the verge of tears in my panicked state, I managed to smile and introduce, and begin what would now be a very slow, very long process of unwinding. Thank Cabbage it was worth it, oh-so-very worth it, and contrary to expectations I was not hard-sold any products after my treatment. In fact, I asked about products and even sampled some make-up, but my beautician never asked me if I wanted to buy, or even offer me prices! Oddness. But I might be back post-FAME, as I'm sure I'll need some kind of therapy once the show is over, so why not make it beauty therapy?!

The day deserved to be rounded off with epicurean delights:


This weekend is brimming with bumping-in lights and final rehearsals, but hopefully between moments of chaos I'll find time to kick back. And it's time to go to Macro again. I'm out of cabbage!!