Touring is hard, and some days you are not the best version of yourself. Unfortunately, today I was far from the best version of myself, and an unsuspecting front desk person bore the brunt of the worst version of me.
I have no excuses but some explanation. Today was the 6th show day in a row, and the last two days, I had to be in the venue at 6 am, which meant waking up at 4:45 am, hours I haven’t seen since my bakery days. Being the tour manager is a hard job. Not physically hard like the crew who lift heavy things, get sweaty and dirty, do a show and tear it all down again. Not physically hard like the actors who have to memorize the show, sing and dance for an hour straight wearing some pretty crazy costumes (I mean it is Baby Shark after all) sweating so much they could fill a swimming pool, which is pretty gross, but fairly accurate. It’s not hard like the Bus drivers who have to drive all night, sometimes narrowly avoiding cars driving down the highway in the wrong direction (yes, that also happened this week).
My job is more mentally hard and mentally exhausting. There are days when you just want to crawl on the bus, take a couple of Unisom, and sleep so soundly there is no waking you. But you can’t; you always have to be prepared. Prepared for things you can’t even comprehend, so you live in this half asleep, half awake world. Not even on your days off can you sleep soundly. You are always on edge that someone needs you because you are the person. The person everyone goes to from things like “Gina where is catering” to “Gina I think the bus is on fire.” So you walk through the day half asleep but wide awake; it’s weird. All day I was telling myself that I just need to get through today because, at the end of the day, there was a hotel bed that I could stretch out, sleep more soundly than I do on the bus, and eat take out. I didn’t plan on leaving that bed until Tuesday morning when I had to do another show. So after loading in a show during tropical storm, Charlotte, following her to the next city, into a really weird building; all I wanted at the end of the day was to check 22 people into a hotel and go to bed. It wasn’t as easy as that, and a stranger bore the brunt of my less than stellar attitude. I was hot, tired, and wet (from the aforementioned tropical storm Charlotte).
Once I finally got 21 people checked in, I went to my room, showered off the funk, and had some clarity. As I sat on my bed, pretty thankful I wasn’t given the housekeeping closet as my room, I started to feel bad. I think the universe knew it because my phone chimed with a “Are you still awake” text. It turns out I had to go back downstairs and talk to the valet about where my buses were parked, and that meant I had to talk to the front desk lady. As soon as I got down there, the first words out of my mouth were, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have treated you that way, and I’m really sorry.” Well, she started to cry, and I felt even worse. Long story short, we were best friends when I left, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be in her wedding.
The bottom line is I was the worst version of myself today, and I hated it. Touring is hard and being a tour manager is a hard 24-hour job. But the universe will always give you the chance to fix your bad behavior, and you just need to get out of your own way to see it.
I’ve got 8 more days on the road, 6 more shows, then I’m hanging up my touring credentials. I’m going to take an office job and live like a regular human where I can get my 9 hours of sleep a night, get back on my bike goals for 2021, spend time with my husband that I miss terribly, and get back to the best version of myself.