I'm The Stupid Thing

It's going to be one of those days. I left the loft only to be greeted by a torrential downpour. Thankfully, my trusty umbrella deflected most of the rain. I arrived at Townsend with my Dockers soaked all the way through. Yikes.

Before heading over to the studio to record promos, I thought it'd be nice to pick up my end-of-the-month paycheck on the fifth floor. When I got halfway to the escalator corridor, I searched my pockets for the proper access badge and couldn't find it. I just had the darn thing a few minutes ago! Dangit. I couldn't go anywhere in the building without it. After someone kindly let me back into my office room, I searched my desk area and still couldn't find the stupid thing.

I'm the stupid thing. It was in my fleece pocket – which I apparently forgot to check. I bopped to the morning meeting; it was over in less than five minutes. That's never a good sign. We were told that our show was going to be shaved by a minute. Normally, this action wouldn't have much of an impact, but we're losing an entire block because of it. One less minute. One less call.