Flame-throwers and Figments of Imagination...

I stupidly put my contacts in yesterday, thinking everything was cool, and now my right eye is all flamed up like a Gay Pride Parade. The Parade route goes right through my cornea.

I'm too impatient for my own good. And I desperately need to look cute this week. The set-up with the Boy DeJour should be happening. Possibly tonight. And I look like a rabid bunny (hey, anyone remember Bunnicula? I know you do, Abby).

I'm double-booked this evening. Conor is doing his slam poetry and I promised Keleen I'd take her to a Ghost Runner show. But, as luck would have it, the two places are right next to each other and both have free admission so I figure I can wander back and forth between my obligations.

And I'm so overdrawn it's ridiculous. The paycheck that I pick up today will all but disappear as soon as I deposit it. My cell bill will have to wait until, well, let's see how long it can wait.

I had a dream of having awkward sex with David Schwimmer. I've never found the bloke attractive, figures that the dream sex would be bad.

Don't know why I threw that in there. Probably because I hadn't mentioned sex in 2.5 seconds.

Rehearsal got cancelled last night. We're doing the reading for the producers at the theatre at the end of the month, right before I fly back to Texas. It would be nice to come home with some nice news, like--

"I'll never have to temp again. The producers think the show is so brilliant they're going to pay us a million dollars just to say, 'thanks for doing the best piece of theatre. Ever.'"

Or I'll settle for, "Here's 50 bucks. Go to, kids. Go to."

So Devon and I drank beer and watched American Idol. There was this commercial for this watch that tells you when you're fertile--"Now conceiving can be as simple as looking at your watch."

Who are they kidding? For conceiving? I want to get that shit so I know when to lock myself in the apartment.

"Come on, baby. I want you so bad."

"LOOK AT THE WATCH!" [looks at watch--reads fertile]

"I totally lost my erection."

"Me, too. Let's watch Gilmore Girls."

end scene.

I turned down the temp job. I have another one, but I figure I'm just gonna be "sick" on Monday for the audition. And hopefully by the end of next week, I'll have the job at the law firm. We'll see. Cautious optimism.

[looks up to sky]

Nothing? Phew, I'm safe.

[anvil drops]

Aww, hell.