I'm losing my mind today, in other words. OH MY GOD. I have rewritten this freaking prologue and Chpt. 1 so many times I just want to spit and stomp on it. BAH. If only my laptop was pink with gamboling kittens on it, it would be so much easier. Sigh. Math is hard. (MY BRAIN IS FRIED. I'm just not going to make sense to the vast majority of you, it can't be helped.)
I had the worst glass of wine on Halloween. Like, pour yourself a glass of rubbing alcohol, top it off with some formaldehyde and cherry juice. I took one sip, ACTUALLY POINTED OFF IN THE DISTANCE SO SOMEONE WOULD LOOK AWAY, and dumped my wine out on the grass, then FAKED LIKE I CHUGGED IT. That happened. In real life. My life is a living sitcom, is what I'm saying. Next up: a very special episode when my daughter gets her period! Or is that when my son brings a homeless man home on Christmas so we all can Learn Something About Compassion? If I was writing that episode, we'd kill him, roll him for whatever change he'd collected, then have a good laugh about how life can be sticky at times. Like our hands.
I got off on a tangent there. I meant to add that I've not been able to drink any wine since. And that makes me sad because I like a glass of vino with dinner. And breakfast, but it's only for the anti-oxidants.
SAVE ME. From myself, true. Nonetheless, I don't wanna look at this same document any more today, BAH.
Oh yeah! I do get to tape another audition tomorrow, and I plan on having Christopher Walken do a schpiel about how the Deer Hunter is actually "hilarious." [It's for an outdoor product store.]