Confession #4

I travel a lot for work. I live out in the country, which means that I’m driving a ton. I grew up this way and it’s no big deal. I’ve learned that it’s important to have a car that reliable but not super expensive because I’m going to be destroying it’s value by putting a ton of miles on it. So, this confession starts out with my last car, which was a step up from my previous truck. Yes, I said truck (it was a single cab 1997 Mazda stick shift… that is a story for another time). This new-to-me Ford Escape was enough to get me from A to B, no frills, nothing fancy, and was large enough to hold all my stuff for work. I keep everything in my car at all times, because there was one time when I was out of town and got a call for last minute job and I didn’t have part of my kit with me, so I had to travel back home get the things I needed and drive all the way back. It sucked. So now I’ve opted to look like a crazy hoarder and keep everything in my car. This is where it gets interesting.

One morning I had a job about an hour and half away. I had all my usual kit stuff, that makes me look like a serial killer (note: see confession #3) in the car, plus all the food, and some props for the shoot. My car was so packed I couldn’t see out the back. So off I went to the job. That morning it was cooler than I realized. So I happened to find a sweatshirt that was in my car. It was rather ratty, but it did the trick, I wasn’t planning on wearing in to the shoot, just in the car. So I’m driving along and it’s allergy season, and I’m sneezing a little bit and I happen to rub my eyes. Big mistake. That morning I had used some new face lotion that has SPF in it, and it got in my eye. So now I’m blinded in one eye driving down the road. It gets so bad that I have to pull over at a rest stop and blink it out. So I’m sitting in this rest area with tears streaming down my face because of this stupid sunblock in my eyes and this couple walks by giving me a very strange look. They come by again and ask if I’m alright, I tell them I’m fine, and then I realize that I look like I’m living out my car! I’m crying, wearing a really ratty shirt, and I have stuff packed to the roof in my car. They we’re super sweet about it, I told them I was fine and I promptly drive off. Confession, in this line of work, things are not always as they seem.