I rolled around a bit, trying to pin it down. I'd gotten a lot done yesterday, it was Saturday, I had most of the day to prep for the show on Sunday, I'd written to my email list about it... couldn't figure out what was wrong, but something really, really was.
Stewed over this, and that, until I decided, okay, the show's bothering me... I should find my voucher (they sent me two, those screw-ups...) and double check that everything's fine with that and I don't have to call the day before to confirm or something.
Only, they weren't screw-ups... I had vouchers for Saturday AND Sunday. Show started at 10, I lost my table at 9:30 if I didn't show. It was 9:35.
So I call the 'I'm going to be late' number, frantically, about four times, and only get the afterhours message. Picture me staggering around in pre-coffee haze, wondering if the car was going to start, wondering what to eat, did I have to eat? Yes, I have to eat, and shower, too, because I was a gross greasy mess and probably smelled like last week. Drive into town, pack the car, shower in a minute flat, and drive (probably too fast) to the show.
They were great. They had indeed given out my table, but when I smiled my best, looked adorable and airheaded and explained that 'I called the number I was supposed to,' they made me a new table and got me set up. I was ready to go an hour into the show, no problem! Thank god I have my office entirely packed in bins. Throw them in the car and go, thank you. And I've done enough shows now that I can set up in about 10 minutes. 15, if, like this morning, I have to sell at the same time I set up.
Good show, but very steady business and I couldn't get enough food or liquid, so now I feel like crappola. Grab bags did pretty well.
Nearly 600 emails to wade through.
Utterly exhausted. Go internal alarm button. I think.
I'm such a moron...