Grace

The word grace is just a beautiful word to say. It is one of those words that when you say it you feel it. Grace! The dictionary gives the meaning of grace as "seemingly effortless beauty or charm of movement, form, or proportion." You can just see grace in your mind when described like that. Charm of movement. Charm, to please greatly; to be fascinating. So "grace" could carry the meaning of fascinating movement.

This brings to mind eagles soaring in the endless sky. Swans gliding over the flat plain of a lake, a ballet dancer leaping across the stage to land softly on the boards, Jo tripping over the curb in front of the Writers Stop at the Disney/MGM StudiosÐ'...Ð'...Ð'.....

Ok, so I was not so graceful. I have walked over that curb endless number of times since I joined the Studio in January. Why all of a sudden was this a task that was beyond my ability? Here I was so ready to go home. It had been a hot day, I had just about walked the heels off my new Liz Claiborne flex pumps and no one working in my area knew how to close out the registers and make deposits for the 11 terminals we have for our 6 shops. Needless to say I also felt a headache beginning to introduce itself to the temples right behind my eyes. At this point I do not think even downing a case of XS would have helped.

Alas about 9:20 pm all the money had been counted and put in the drop safe for pick up. Registers and Point of Sales systems audited and closed for the night. Cast Members all sent on their merry way home. All that was left was to input all the labor, revenue, accounting and inventory reports to General Ledger. Another 30 minutes and I was out of there, homeward bound. To my chagrin one little piece of paper that should have gone with the Cast Member to be put in the auditor's box lay nestled between AFI Showcase's Revenue report and Prop Shop's Accounting Totals report.

My heart sank as I contemplated letting the slip of paper remain where it was, willing to face the barrage of emails and phone calls the next day when the paper was not found by the auditing team. I knew however that the 5 minute walk to the front of the park then the 5 minute walk to my car was a small price to pay when compared with facing the inquisition the next day, although my feet had voted to ignore that annoying little piece of paper.

So here I go, the 10 minute walking detour to my car. Satchel, purse, packet of reports to be dropped off in the back of the park and the little stowaway that had to go to the auditor's box at the front of the park. I check to make sure the Writers Stop door is securely locked for the night and head out on my quest. I emerge from the backstage area onto the sidewalk shadowed by the New York skyline backdrop. One step, two steps, three steps, FLOOR. Grateful