Thursday, June 23, 2011

Like A Figure Skater, Why?!

I got the orange pills with the long name.
I'm taking them like I'm supposed to.
And, my throat feels better.
But, the other stuff still cripples my entire day(s).
The sinus pressure is numbing.
Like an elephant on the face.
Like a can of stewed tomatoes in each shoe.
Also some cramping and nausea which I gather is a side affect from the orange drops.
You guys, I have never been this immobilized for this amount of time.
Starting to dig my fingers into the tiny holes in my head.
Called work to tell them Friday is a no go, no way, can't lift my head.
And one manager says don't worry about us honey you just feel better, and you call me if you need anything honey.
Only to have another manager call three hours later to say I got your shift covered, but, you know the protocol yadda, yadda, yadda shut up you stupid cow.
Yeah if there's a movie I want to see I get my shit covered.
But, hello brown cow, if I can't lift my head I call that shit off like a safety seal.
Especially if it's more then twelve hours notice.
I've read the hand book plenty of times on the occasions I forgot to stick my literature in my nap sack at three am.
Oh, corporations.
Oh, transitional assistant manager positions!
Oh, living hell at eighteen hours a week.
Guess what I didn't call off to.
The six shows I'm committed to drumming in three hot little circular days.
Just gonna have to.
Normally I'm of the philosophy that life is more important then a silly little show.
But, when it comes to children, and pride, and hot lesbian screen writers flying in from LA.
Well, wild horses couldn't.
Plus, you know the aesthetic by now, all I have to do is get on the voice over and explain my disease, and promise to give it my best 65%.
Pass the knee socks.
Mama's going out.
Skin & Toast

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