I Coulda Been a Special Agent

I have an NCIS problem. Gibbs and Abby and Tony and Ziva and McGee and Ducky… I love them all. And I spend an inordinate amount of time daydreaming on the bus and during workouts about being a special agent. Using my ability to get people to tell my secrets to interrogate suspects and using my CrossFit skills to beat down the bad buys… my bus rides are very exciting inside my noggin.

Last week when I got the announcement about a contest to WIN A TRIP TO THE SET, I got super excited. All I had to do to enter was get the NCIS soundtrack, take a photo of myself with it, and post it on Facebook. Easy, right?

Except that I’m as vain as the day is long, so I needed to be able to primp my hair and makeup before posing for my picture. The CD arrived in the mail on Saturday when I was at the Spartan 300 workout. Then I spent Sunday in my pjs making food for the week — no time for a photo shoot. Monday I did my workout at 6:30 a.m., rushed to work, inhaled my dinner, then headed off to band practice from 7 to 10. Tuesday was pretty much like Monday, and by Wednesday, I’d halfway forgotten about the contest.

This morning, I got dolled up and Dave took my picture with the CD. See?
It wasn’t ’til I arrived at work and re-read the email that I learned I’d missed the deadline for the contest. (Play her off, keyboard cat.)

Boo! Now how will Pauly Perrette and I ever braid each other’s hair?
How will Mark Harmon and I bond over coffee?
I’m missing the opportunity to wax philosophical with Ducky…
to geek out with Sean Murray…
to kick butt with Cote de Pablo…
to flirt with Michael Weatherly…