Frowsy Girl

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It is beginning to hit me that I am tired.   I am also eating chocolate at 1:00a.m.  Not a great idea, but I have to get this out.  I guess I’m feeling like I don’t want you to doubt my commitment to this, the one thing under the sun that I am committed to.

It is also beginning to hit me that I didn’t post anything earlier which was my plan of a sort.   I was going to think ahead, I had time to think ahead.  Now, it’s past midnight.  I’m sorry that I missed yesterday’s deadline, though I will post it and correct the date so we keep it to one post per day. My eyelids are full of fake lashes begging to be peeled off.  I’m irritated, in a casual, genial way, with the rich drunk patrons who attended someone else’s gala tonight and just spilled money at me.  We need people to spill money and they are completely sober and walking in a straight line.  Not that I expected to be fed, but they threw $5 at us for parking and then disappeared into the crowd and then didn’t come back to check on us for four hours, by which time the party was just beginning to go into full-swing.   I actually got up and told my boss I had to leave because tomorrow I have a whole other day of holy obligation.

I have to make a speech or something about something I understand generally, but haven’t exactly practiced or been any part of since I left six or eight months ago  and really, it’s been a year since I thought about it and they’ve completely overhauled the program.  There’s software now rather than my gerry-rigged slideshows.  I’m doing this as a favor to my mentor, and I’m grateful, actually for the distance that the change brings. I just hope that I don’t have to spend the whole day there.  I don’t want to have to be on that back-end side of things and I need a bit of this weekend to just exist.  Damnit.

I have the life upgrade of the new hair.  It is pink and sharp looking.  I spent eons of the time I could have been writing this post putting crap on my face so that I ended up thinking that I was alright.  You know, not this waif I am in my mind, but pleasant-looking.  Sparky with the pink hair that I decided I liked well enough to keep going with.  Gotta cultivate this look.

Drove, also, through the driving dark after taking an Uber one way after leaving my car at the office, and having a very awkward car ride with my sister and her boyfriend back home.  Some day I’ll be so free of this shit that I won’t have to ask anyone for a ride again.  That feels like a ballsy thing to say and hard to hope for, but I was worried about my leg of it, and that was nothing.

Nothing.  AND JOHN IRVING!

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