Your Faith Means Everything...

Ashlee, Mom, and Gary are coming into town this weekend for the show.

I wish I had the slightest bit of energy. Oh well. Somehow I'll find it. I always do.

I'm taking a half-day so I'm not rushed for the show. I also desperately need to clean the apartment again if I'm going to be showing it to the 'rents and finding space for Ms. Christian.

Who I need to call. I need to tell her where I live. I'm just either at work, at the show, or asleep.

Boo. Boring.

Yesterday, I was uncontrollably sad. It seemed like everything was wrong, even if it wasn't. I suppose it's the exhuastion, but you know when you're in that place where the slightest thing will throw you down into the Pit of Despair? Like, my pen falls off the desk--

"Well, there's just no reason for me to live anymore, is there?"

And things really aren't that bad. But try telling yourself that when you think that they are.

But then I took the car service home. I made the genius choice to buy my beer before I got home, so I enjoyed a beer in the car. I love New York. I love not driving in New York. And the moon was huge and beautiful in the sky and the driver was nice and we chatted. Life isn't so bad. It's hard right now. It's been a hard year here in the city. But I'm still standing. There's some money in my bank account, I'm doing a show that I love. People I love are coming to see it (jury's still out on Ass-wipe, but we'll see), I enjoy the people that I work with, and when I got home, bliss occurred:

We got cable.

Hells, yeah. Not much can be too bad when you've got HBO on Demand. It's all over now, kids. You'll never hear from me again.