Are you up? She doesn't answer.
Wanna schtup? She doesn't say.
I'll never ever be a dancer.*
Tomorrow is another day.**
For this moment, reveling in being able to do stuff when I want to at 4am! I liked a lot the temp media work I've been doing for the past 2 weeks: searching online for relevant press releases, editing and posting internal news to the company's website. I really could do that all day. (Despite the innate stupidity of the task: gathering items to deliver to those who get off on seeing their name mentioned in print, despite how trivial the mention. It's not like I would have CHOSEN this task when I was 5 and the teacher asked me what I wanted to do with my life, but hey... We can't all be heiress/artistes who choose to remove themselves from life's phoniness like J.D. Salinger and James Merrill and Edward Albee; if I'm going to have to get paid for something, searching the Internet is a darned easy thing to get paid for. I also liked that it involved some thinking, unlike, say, blankly making appointments or travel arrangements.)
But still, when the job ended today... I couldn't wait to come home and... take a nap! At 6pm! I woke up at 11pm... And I didn't have to fret about getting back to sleep before the alarm went off at 6:20am! And I got to putz around rearranging my CD collection for 3 hours. And now here I am, writing on my blog at 4:30am! I'm FREE! (Albeit temporarily. Three months of freedom, to be specific. Since being booted out of NYC in 2010 for lack of funds, I'm now, 3 years later, constantly hyper-aware of what I have in the bank and how long I can live off of it. Right now, I can go 3 months without a job and still survive.)
p.s. I'd FELT I had about a thousand CDs. Actually only about 270.