Great.

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I just got into a big fight with my ex-best friend. I know, that sounds so juvenile. She wanted to know why I hadn't called, or something.

ME: "Because I'm fucking busy! Jesus! You know that! I get home past midnight every night and I'm at the theater sometimes for nine hours a day!"

HER: "What about that time in between?"

ME: "It's called SLEEP!"

HER: "Well, I've done more than you can say. I called you a few days ago and you never called back. Boo-yah."

ME: "Kiss my ass. I never check my caller ID. And plus, I don't think you would have wanted me to call you back at some ungodly hour of the wee morning."

HER: "I don't care."

ME:"But you would have if I called you."

HER: "Shut up. Don't be a smartass."

ME: "Don't be a dumbass."

And on and on and on like that. I told her that if she cared so damn much, she could always come see me. It's not too hard to figure out where I am. Call home, if I'm not home, drive to the theatre.

Jesus.

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Heather is coming tonight to the show. I'm nervous. She's really f'n hard to please when it comes to arts.

Last night was pretty good. We had almost a full house. Afterwards, I was so tired that I was kissing hands and shaking babies. I had to mingle with some people from School of Choice who were there. After all, they are going to be practically the only people I'll know. I don't want to be a bitch to them just yet.

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I contemplated the idea of shaving my cat this morning. I realized that it was coming time for me to bathe her. Anything short of throwing her into soapy toilet water, closing the lid, and flushing a few times was not conceivable considering how tired I normally am in the morning. But then I realized how hideous she would be if I shaved her. She is the most ginormous cat you've ever seen. If I shaved her, she'd look like an overweight seal. *full body shiver* I don't think I could stand to look at her without any fur. It's just too disgusting.

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Brad, the surprisingly female mother cat, found the potted plant again this morning. I awoke to the odor of cat shit fertilizing a potted palm. Not pleasant. Brad just looked up at me all sheepish, like, "Oh, I'm just a stupid cat. I don't know any better. If I keep doing this, you can't do anything about it. Ha! Ha! You have to clean up my shit!"

Ggrrr.

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I have to go get ready. See, the process starts at about 4:45, and lasts until about 12:30. It takes f'n forever, especially when you have hair like Magenta from the Rocky Horror Picture Show on a bad day.

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!