I am a total douche.

I am a total douche. I'm not usually down on myself, but right now I deserve it.

After two shows on Sunday night, I pack up my makeup table and head out into the night, saying my goodbyes to DC. I'm looking forward to the cool Canadian weather! I ride the metro home, and slowly begin the packing process. I do two loads of laundry, while watching episodes of CSI, some stupid movie about cheerleaders, and that matchmaking show on A&E. I take all my clothes out of their drawers and off their hangars, and make big piles out of them. I bring all my shoes into the middle of my living room and stuff them with underwear. I organize piles of paper, and I fill ziplock bags. I love stuff, and no more is this apparent than when I'm packing. Stacks and stacks of books accumulate by bags full of toiletries, and I'm slowly but surely packing.

Somehow 11pm (when I arrived home) has slowly become 3am, and I'm getting into the good packing vibe. I work best under pressure, so the first few hours were lackadaisical. At 3 I decide that I need to be in bed by 4 to get the required three hours of sleep and wake up at 7. The juice is on, and I'm 80% done! I have been putting things into piles, and one is the pile that goes into my carry-on. I'm deciding which bag should be my carry-on when suddenly my heart stops. I think, "What are the most important things for this trip? The things that should go in the outside pocket of my bag so they are accessible at all times?" The answer? Money and my passport. And you see, this is why my heart stops. My passport.

This is when I realize that I've pulled the ultimate dumbass move. My passport is in a locked box on a truck traveling to Canada. DAMN! I immediately stop and turn off the tv so I can think. On Thursday night I packed my trunk, which the company travels from city to city for me. They come pick it up on Friday, and then drop it off at our next apartment on Wednesday. I put everything heavy in it, including a blow up bed. It's got wine, detergent, clothes, shoes, and any random thing I decided I could live without for a week. It's also got my important file with my PASSPORT.

Now I know from traveling that you cannot. CANNOT. get into Canada by plane without a passport. So it's 3am, but I decide to call my stage manager, Amy. After the show closed tonight, a huge crew started packing it up. They work all night, and then they send the trucks on to Canada, where we meet them after luxuriously flying. I am thinking at 3:30am that there's a possibility that my passport, in my trunk, is sitting on a truck in the parking lot of the Kennedy Center. I call Amy, but of course she's asleep. She wakes up and is PISSED at me, but when I explain, she understands. She tells me to call Walter, who's in charge of load-out, and wishes me luck. Of course I call and he doesn't answer, so I decide that I need to Go to the Kennedy Center and find my passport.

I get dressed and run down the block looking for a taxi. Eventually I wake some poor man up and convince him to drive me to the (closed) Kennedy Center. He thinks I'm insane. We arrive, I jump the fence, and find Randy, one of the big crew bosses. Unfortunately the truck is already halfway to Canada, so I'm screwed. I sit on the steps of the Kennedy Center wanting to cry. Instead, I pick up the phone and start texting. While I'm waiting to see if anyone is awake, I call Air Canada, who says that they really REALLY REALLY will not let me on the plane without my passport, which should be arriving in Canada on Tuesday afternoon. Did I mention that we open in previews on Wednesday? Luckily my friend Emily, who happens to be our assistant company manager, answers my text and we start brainstorming.

We talk as I walk around DC looking for a cab to get back to Arlington. Unfortunately, I can't get in without a passport, and my passport won't be accessible until Tuesday afternoon. Then my the time it's mailed back to me in the US, and I receive it and jump on a plane, I would miss the show. Emily and I decided I should drive. Sure! We brainstorm about who in the company has a car and might give me a lift. We make a list of four people that I'll call at 8am, and then I mention that I only have my wallet. OF COURSE we then look online (actually only Emily does, because luckily by now I'm in a cab going home) and find out that I need a birth certificate to get into Canada. And - not a copy, but the REAL THING.

So now we know I'm doubly screwed. Even if I did find some poor person who pitied me enough to give me a ride, there's no way they'd wait a day for me to get my birth certificate sent from Ohio (not even mentioning the fact that hopefully it's there, and hopefully my parents can send it to me ASAP) if it means that then they'll have to do a ten hour drive the night before we open with two shows. Aaaaaaghhhh!!! So now I'm home, and I plop down in the business center, with my cellphone charging because it's low from all the use. We decide that maybe I can rent a car from DC to Ottawa, and drive it up the night before we open. We call Alamo, Avis, Hertz, Enterprise, Dollar, Budget, and Thrifty. And they are ALL SOLD OUT. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? EVERYONE IN DC MUST BE RENTING A CAR ON TUESDAY!

I freak out for a while, and then decide to work my charms over the phone to someone in India with Expedia. Thank goodness I did, because after another half an hour on the phone, I have a car reserved with good old National Car Rental. These people will be my gods if this actually pulls through. So now it's 6:45am, and I've literally been up all night. I'm waiting for the strike of 7am to call my parents and wake them up to search for my birth certificate. Hopefully they can priority overnight it to me, and then I can get in the car and drive ten hours to make this happen. My fingers are SO CROSSED right now, I can't even tell you.