Intrepid

I am working on a magazine article on the "true crossover" right now and despite how sick I have been I managed to trudge my way to this weekend's Auto Show. There's a place I never thought I would visit. I took the train downtown and my head was foggy and achy. I felt miserable. Then, I got to the auto show, realized I didn't have my wallet with me and felt even worse. I called Brian from the window overlooking the show that I would apparently not be going to and told him that I was turning around and coming home and could he please dig a hole in the backyard so I could just throw myself in it when I got there. I was mad at myself and sick and my iPod battery was low. Shortly after I got off the phone something kicked in - the feeble remainder of my former self - and said "You are getting in to the Car Show, wallet or no wallet." So, I marched downstairs to the security guard and proceeded to give him hell. "I was in there and when I left you didn't stamp me and now the lady at the front won't let me back in and my husband is in there. Why didn't you stamp me? I'm NOT paying again."
"Okay, just go ahead. Sorry about that ma'am."

I felt like I had just forged the castle walls and was rewarded with lots of shiny vehicles and the nauseating smell of new car. I got the info/interviews I needed for my article and headed for the train. It was right about then that I found my wallet.