Earlier this week, I looked at my list of things to do, and realized I hadn’t yet booked the hall for my book launch for Charybdis. We’ll be doing a Zoom launch with my wonderful publisher, JC Studio Press in the UK, but I’ll also be doing an in-person launch for family and friends towards the end of May. So, as I said, I looked at my to-do list and then promptly forgot about it because a to-do list is only valuable when you’re actually looking right at it, and I probably should have a to-do list in my car that says ‘Look at your to-do list’ because that’s where I was when I suddenly remembered that I had NOT, in fact, called the hall in Princeton. Princeton, Ontario. And I specify that for reasons which will shortly become clear.

I was in my car, driving (and I don’t know why I needed to specify THAT because what else would I be doing in my car—reading?) and I was super-excited because I had just gotten an email from Value Village offering me 40% off on accessories and that, of course, includes purses, and I’ve been doing very well lately in the fancy purse resale market, and if I sell enough purses, I can justify keeping a couple of the really nice ones, right? But suddenly I had an epiphany about calling the hall, and even though you’re not allowed, I was on a deserted back road so I got out my phone and googled Princeton and District Museum and Archives. It should be noted at this point that I wasn’t wearing my reading glasses, but I wasn’t SUPPOSED to be reading (note: this set of circumstances apparently negates my previous sarcastic comment about reading in the car quite devastatingly, doesn’t it?) and I saw the number to call and I hit the button, activating my car phone. The phone rang and rang, then someone picked up:

Man (groggily): Hello…?
Me: Hi…is this the Princeton Museum?
Man: Yes, but we don’t open until 10. You’re calling a little outside opening hours.

At this point, I was confused. It was 11 am. Was he drunk? Because he sounded drunk.

Me: Okay. Anyway, I was in the library branch yesterday and the librarian told me if I wanted to book the museum for my book launch, I’d have to call because your hours are hit and miss.
Man: We’re open every day, 10 to 4.

Now, I was even more confused. I know for a fact that the museum is NOT open every day—in fact, I was there yesterday and it was NOT open. But the man was obviously drunk so…

Me: I had a book launch there last year, and I’d love to book the museum again—everybody loved the space so much.
Man: You had a book launch here last year? What’s your name?

I told him my name.

Man: I don’t recall that. You say it was last year?
Me: Yes. We used the theatre space and the hall. When would be the best time for me to come by and pay for the rental? I’m just heading to Brantford right now so if you’re there until 4, I could be there around 2.
Man: Brantford?
Me (thinking, Wow, this dude is HAMMERED): Yeah, just up the road. Like literally 20 minutes from Princeton?
Man: Where are you calling from? Like, what province? Because I’m in British Columbia…
Me: WHAT?! I’m in Ontario.
Man: So on the other side of the continent then? I don’t think you’ll be able to make it by 2.

Can you believe that there’s actually ANOTHER place also called the Princeton and District Museum and Archives in this country? Yeah, I’d called a town in a time zone 3 hours behind my own, so no wonder he sounded so groggy—I’d probably woken him up, although why the museum man was even answering the museum phone from his own bed is anyone’s guess. And then I compounded my lack of geographical knowledge when I told Ken about it:

Me: And then he said he was on the other side of the ‘continent’. What a dummy—I think he meant COUNTRY, lol.
Ken: You know we’re part of the continent of North America, right?
Me: Look at these cool purses I got today.

At any rate, ‘call Princeton Museum in Ontario’ is still on my to-do list.

In other news, Charybdis is out in the world and so far it’s been getting excellent reviews so thank you to everyone who’d taken the time to give it some stars or say something nice about it—it means the world to me!