oh, man. i’m so tired. i’ve hit the wall in my week. between the full-time night job, the rehearsals, the phone calls, the script-writing, the website-updating/redesigning problems, the i’m-trying-to-sell-a-television-show’ing, the recapping, the forum moderating, the email answering, the running, the yoga’ing, the making meals for myself to bring to night job to be debt free by 30’ing, and the determination to make my daily life as if I wasn’t working a night job, I am feeling it. Feeling it. Can’t believe it’s only Thursday.
I’m getting protective over my weekend time. Like a dog and his foodbowl. I am tired.
Tired.
Tir–zzzzzzzzzzzzz.
In case you care about such things, the debate over yesterday’s entry has been quite interesting. I’d be more involved with it if I had more than three seconds to check my email at a time. If you care about things related to Austin, or me, or zzzzzzzzzzzz… I’m mentioned in this article about Austinites and Hollywood. Yay, me. I am very happy to be in such esteemed company and zzzzzzzzzz.
Yesterday I typed for fifteen hours. That is not an exaggeration. If anything, it is a conservative estimate.
I love you. Is it too soon for me to say that? I love you. Even those of you who seem to take an incredible joy out of hating me. You keep me going. This is all for you. No, actually, this is all for those of you who actually love me, but the fact that I haven’t given up or slowed down or at least allowed myself to ease up, that’s for those of you would wish I would just fail already.
Ooh, I’m punchy when I’m tired. Not so much the nice girl I usually am. Hey, when I’m thirty, should I make you guys stop referring to me as “pamie”? I’m already thinking it’s gone on long enough. Nah, whatever. I should delete that paragraph. But it’s too late because zzzz.
La la la. tired tired tired. blogs let you write without a sense of modesty or charm or ethics. blogs let you babble. blogs. blogs. blogs. bbbllllloooooogs. heh. hee. blog. blawg. snoop blawgy blawg. blooooooooooaaaawg. let’s get ready to blooooooooooog!
oh, man.
don’t ever tell anyone I wrote that.
Hi. Today I feel: conflicted. emotional. exhausted. frustrated with my writing. anxious over money. buried. beaten down. bad-haired. blooooooogggggged.
Heh. Hi. Hee. Wooo!