Update 1 PM
My Canadian friend got me on the phone and gave me a much-needed reality check.
“Ask your Mom!”
“I can’t ask my Mom!” I cried.
“Why not? You never had to get a restraining order from your Mom! And you cannot be a stripper. Do yourself a favor and sell your kidney first, instead. It would have fewer negative consequences for you. I am really worried about you. Nothing good can come from that decision. All the possibilities on the flow chart point to tragedy. And you’ll start drinking in a bar and in two years you’ll be a tattooed, haggard shell of a woman.
Besides, nobody is going to hire you. Not if they are talented at vetting strippers. What sort of music are you going to bring in? Something from the ’90s that will date yourself?”
I started to shriek with laughter. I thought that was hilarious. “Rob Zombie! Living Dead Girl!”
“Imagine how depressed you are going to be when you don’t get the job! And on that note, maybe you need to start living a less exciting life. Haven’t you had enough excitement? Just reading your blog makes me think I’m having a heart attack.
Call your Mom.”
Thank you, E., for making me feel like a human being again.
* * * *
My contact lens case fell over in the medicine cabinet last night and my contacts dried out.
They were my only pair.
To get new ones, I have to submit to an eye exam. Three hundred bucks I don’t have right now.
I really think I might be losing my mind. When I saw my contacts, I actually sat down on the toilet lid and started laughing uncontrollably. Oh boy.
The diamond ring my ex, John, gave me has almost no resell value. I’m thinking about putting it on craigslist, but it seems stupid to sell my only good jewelry for a few bucks.
Independence day. The Studio is closed, which pisses me off.
I have no plans. Maybe I should watch the news. I literally have no idea what’s going on in the world. I haven’t checked my messages or talked to anyone on the phone in days.
I need to get some new contacts. Then I’m going to audition at the strip club. I might as well get it over with.
I have no idea how I’m going to do this sober.