Winter has hit New York City and according to the newspaper I read while sitting in a crowded audition room this morning, a chill is going to be hovering from Canada to NYC until at least February.

WHAT?

January just got here!

February is a month away!

More importantly, HOW DO THEY KNOW THAT?

I swear, I think knowing the weather in advance is nothing short of magical. PCG makes fun of me constantly because I check it obsessively and can tell him at any given point what the high and low are for the next few days and if there’s any chance of precipitation. What can I say? That’s just me, being a total dork, needing to know how to dress because I may or may not have a spreadsheet that tells me how much to layer/what kind of coat to wear for various temperatures, broken up by ten degree increments.

Wait. Let’s pretend I didn’t tell you that, okay?

Sigh.

The winter is always tough for me because, well, the COLD is tough for me. But also, the winter is prime audition season which means not only am I waiting on a subway platform in sub-zero temperatures, I am also getting up really early a few times a week, juggling a bunch of random activities on a day-to-day basis, lugging around a bag filled with my book of songs, audition outfit, work outfit, racing to and from work trying not to be gone too long on top of which I am usually just TIRED.

And so, the winter passes in a snowy blur of getting in and out of dresses and singing 16 bar cuts of songs for people who aren’t very interested. I’m trying to inject some FUN into this winter so I can maybe stop wishing it away and counting down the minutes until it’s warm again and I have some semblance of a life back.

My co-worker is an actor as well and he came by my cube yesterday looking totally exhausted and I was all, Where were YOU? and he was all, An audition! and I was all, You look WIPED and he said, I had to wear SWEATPANTS for the audition so of course I had to change when I got there in the bathroom which OF COURSE! was the size of the backseat of a SmartCar and then do the audition, which, by the way, was for an anti-depressant so my only instruction was to stand there and “LOOK FORLORN” and then I had to change back to work clothes in that SUPER TINY BATHROOM, throw everything in my bag and race back to work so I wasn’t gone too long.

And I just stared at him.

Because in that moment, I related so so so much.

And I honestly couldn’t think of a more sure-fire way to drive yourself freaking crazy than to jump on the subway at rush hour, cram yourself into the tiniest space possible, change outfits ten times, try to not misplace your hat, gloves, scarf, sweater in the process, race for the subway again, get back to your cubicle at a reasonable hour so you can keep your job all so you could stand in front of a panel of people for a few minutes in your SWEATPANTS looking DEPRESSED.

I spent the rest of my afternoon alternately laughing and crying about that image because THAT? THAT RIGHT THERE? Is a pitch perfect summation of all that’s wrong with the acting industry. CAN I GET AN AMEN!?