Tired. Long day. Blurry hangover from one too many beers and not enough food. Will I ever learn? Probably not. Not when ‘fun’ is involved. Of course, I didn’t sleep very well. Waking up on every hour on the hour. Out of boredom I woke up at 6, not 6:15. It really was a difference. I was so ahead of time I didn’t know what to do. I had two suits and five shirts and a tie to drop off at the dry cleaners.

I also had some trash and some recycling. I must have looked a sight climbing down the four flights carrying clothes, garbage and empty beer bottles. Thankfully the paparazzi ignored me choosing to camp outside an apartment on the third. Somehow the garbage can wound up three doors down the street. Strike One.

Go to the dry cleaners, throwing the heap of clothes on the counter, telling the nice man behind the counter, one tie, two suits five shirts. Then I noticed I was missing a pair of trousers. Not good. I ran out of the store looking to see if the errant pair of pants lay on the sidewalk. Nope. Hopefully I didn’t put them in the trash, maybe I left them in the apartment.

I didn’t have time to run back up four flights of stairs to check. Strike two. Make it up to Washington St. As I cross against the light standing on the double line the bus pulls up. I make it to the side of the bus as it starts pulling away and I’m banging the side yelling for the driver to stop. He does and I pay my fare and stumble towards the seat. Two stops later the seat in front of me gets occupied with the occupier deciding to recline into my knees. Strike three.

Make it work, needing food badly. It promised to be busy and I needed to eat. Got an egg sandwich at the deli next to work. Took forever to get it and I proceeded to meltdown. It definitely helped having something to eat. The temp arrived. Nice guy. Matt. Sings in a Cabaret show at Don’t Tell Mama. Twenty something looking like Elliot from E.T. and I mean that as a compliment.

Somehow I got through the day, eating whenever I can. And keeping hydrated. I was busy running around and showing Matt the ropes. He was a quick learner and I trusted in him correctly to carry his load. And he did so admirably. I told him I was going to try to see his show at Don’t Tell Mama.

I did tell Jamie about Matt’s upcoming show and she said she’d try to make it with me. Should be fun. She told me they had the goods on the Persian Bitch and soon the ax will fall. I told her I’d believe it when I see it. Tomorrow may be the day that bitch will be out of my fucking life forever. That would be soooooo sweet.

Would be nice if we got rid of Humpty Debbie, but sometimes you have to take the good with the big fat bad.

My appreciation for Pop Art continues…