Rolling rolling rolling

In Which My Innate Sense Of Direction Once Again Saves My Ass.
Kind of. Mostly. Yesterday was kind of hellish. But kind of awesome. So my alarm goes off at 7 15. Keep in mind that I haven't gotten up before 11 in nearly a month. I took the train into Brooklyn to meet Matt (I'm dropping his clarifying tagline of designer. I realized it's pretty unnecessary). Friday night he tried to send me the light plot for the next show (it's so wierd working on a plot for Berkeley, and sending it to Fred, but never getting to actually see it) but I couldn't open it, for some reason. I'm still not sure why. But the upshot was that I needed to go to his studio and transfer it directly. When I got there, he and his kids were carting out some furniture. Apparently, the studio got new furniture, and they had sold most of the old stuff on craigslist (incidently, when he posted it, the first person who replied was the actress who played Laura in Glass Menagerie last year, so that was pretty random and fantastic). There was a futon couch sitting there, and I eyed it hopefully, but didn't say anything, until he mentioned that it was blocking his office mates desk, and oh hey, did I need a bed? Why yes! I do! So he gave it to me. Just like that. So, crappy files are actually a good thing. We decided that I would pick it up that evening. I went back to my aunts apartment to eat something, grab a couple things, and then headed to Penn Station. I like taking trains. I wish I had realized that Amtrak has outlets. I should have brought my laptop adaptor and been able to work the whole time, but instead I got about two hours of work done on the plot. My ex-uncle picked me up in New London and gave me his car keys. It's so wierd having family around. I was able to ask the huge favor of borrowing his car for a day, and get it. Fantastic. He's a nice guy. Very very different from my dad, and I remember not liking him too much when I was growing up, but he's nice. He gave me a little tour of New London, showed me the house, and was generally very accomodating and ... nice. I don't know how else to put it. So I took the big SUV (that got terrible gas mileage, by the way. It was a 20 gallon tank, and I got about 260 miles on it. Terrible) and went up to Jill's parents' house, threw a bunch of boxes in the car, and jetted out. I didn't take that much, mostly because I knew that I was unloading it alone in New York, but I did get my clothes, art supplies, one box of books. I think that was it. I made it into queeens fine. The google directions were kind of wierd, they gave too much information, almost, but I found it fine. The hard part was getting back on the BQE going west to go to Dumbo to pick up the futon. I went the wrong way twice (once almost getting on the Queensboro Bridge. That would have sucked). I knew where I needed to be, but the damn onramp was ridiculously hard to find. I got back fine, though, dragged the futon and frame up the stairs and into my room (any of you ever drag a futon up a flight of stairs by yourself? It ain't fun). I decided to try to drive to Mitchell's apartment and leave the car there, so that I wouldn't have to deal with getting it in the morning. Note that I have only been there once before, and while I had the address, I had only gone there by subway. And yay me, I went pretty much straight to it. I'm very proud of all this driving around New York. I wasn't Manhattan, but still. I drove in New York! This is an experience that I expected to be terrible and soul crushing. Nope. It was fun. Seriously. There's something rather exhilarating about it, there's so much artistic license. But I was also exhausting. I got home at about midnight, and collapsed. I was so tired, and in pain from sitting in a car and dealing with heavy stuff and stairs. And then my alarm went off at 7 15 again.
I'll leave the rest of the weekend for another entry, I need to take a nap. I'm starting to get a tired headache, and I still have a ton of work to do by sometime tomorrow.