I hate to complain (no, really, I do, despite all evidence to the contrary). But I’ve hit a lull here in Louisville and there’s no denying it.
I’ve been having a hard time getting into the festival today. It’s crowded, which isn’t surprising. It’s always way busier on Saturday and Sunday than the first two days. So it’s not like I didn’t know all these people would be here. That didn’t stop me, however, from having a severe flare-up of misanthropy. Everyone is annoying me today. I hate the general public. They are a bunch of sheeplike, ignorant dolts. Now, I will say the people who come to this festival are slightly less offensive than the people you’d find at, say, the fair, or an amusement park. But there’s still a damned lot of them and they are all getting on my nerves.
When I do venture downstairs, it’s a major project. The elevator situation in this hotel is shocking. There are only four and they should have twice that many. It has been like this every time I’ve been here. At certain times of day people are waiting as much as fifteen minutes to find space on an elevator going up. There’s really no excuse for it. I’ve never stayed in another hotel that has been this difficult to get around — not even in Vegas. This afternoon I spent ten minutes getting downstairs only to realize I had left my admission wristband in the room and had to go through the entire process again. Ugh.
At the festival I have been having a hard time focusing today. I get down there and listen to a couple songs and then lose interest and start wandering. I haven’t been too impressed with the bands I’ve heard today, either. I’m sure part of the problem is the crowd, which is distracting. Part of it may also be homesickness. I miss my kids, I guess. It’s not so much I wish I were home as I wish they’d come with me — which is INSANE because I sincerely doubt I’d be having any more fun if they were here. Talk about distracting!
Then, of course, there was the drama of yesterday, which sort of put a damper on my mood, figuratively, and a literal damper was put on last night when I got all ready and went downstairs only to find out it was pouring rain and the show I was going to see was called off. I also thought I’d feel better-rested, getting my first solid nights’ sleeps since before Eliza was born, but I still feel just as tired as ever. On top of all this, I feel fat and sloppy and ugly….what that has to do with my enjoyment of concerts, I don’t know, but there it is. I look pregnant and I’m afraid someone’s going to ask me when I’m due, and I hate my new hair.
It also occurs to me that maybe the luster of coming on this particular trip alone has worn off. I would venture a guess that less than 2% of the attendees are here by themselves. Everyone seems to have either friends or family with them. Normally that wouldn’t bother me. It hasn’t in the past, and I sure don’t mind doing most other stuff by myself. Perhaps, though, two times alone here was the most I could find enjoyable. I think this feeling is unique to this particular activity — I don’t think I’ve lost my enthusiasm for spending time alone; just for this one, specific thing.
So there’s the happy report for today. Yikes. I’m going to hang out here for a couple of hours — the next thing I wanted to see doesn’t start until 8:30 — and perhaps I will perk up a bit. If not tonight, then maybe by tomorrow morning. I would sure like to enjoy my last day here.
If you think I’m a complete boob for spending all this money on a trip and then complaining about it, it’s probably warranted. Hopefully this is just an off day and I will be back in the swing of things tomorrow.