Thursday, January 23, 2014


I am always late to that fucking boutique - almost every fucking time.  It stresses me out and I still fucking do it.  I woke up today to get ready in plenty of time and I wasn't tired still - my alarm went off and even though I was having icky dreams I was okay.  SO I SLEPT FOR 50 MORE MINUTES.  Why would I do that to myself?  That trip into work was torture and then having to explain to her why I was late on top of trying to get to leave to go to an audition?  Listen - this day might have been horrible anyway - but - it was a lot fucking worse because I was late.  And you know - I get to the other job a little late now.  I just read some articles about lateness and one of them is about the adrenaline rush of being late - being a drama junkie.  That doesn't sound like me at all.  It's a fucking responsibility thing too - I just don't want to fucking be uncomfortable ever and it's uncomfortable to get up on time and to get to places on time and to be a fucking grown-up.  I mean I know this is boring but seriously - what the fuck am I doing?  This isn't okay - I don't want to be that person.  At the comedy club there was this manager who was always so late it was insane - she wouldn't even get there until AFTER the show started sometimes.  So she wouldn't even leave her house until she was already supposed to BE at work.  So - so this is so crazy to me that I'm doing this.  I mean I don't want to be at these jobs - I want to be acting and going on auditions and doing shows and having fun.  But - fuck - me being late and stressing out isn't going to help that happen is it?  Am I just a giant failure?  What am I doing?  I should have just left that shithole (it's not a shithole) today and gone to the audition right?  NO.  I'm so frustrated - I just ate a small pizza.  Good for me for not getting the cheesey bread right???  If I was in a dance class right now I would 100% throw up.  A whole small pizza?  Who needs to do that?  What is happening to me?  Listen - I have great timing but I suck with time - I really do.  I have no idea how long anything takes.  I cook until it's finished - that's it.  Not with everything - ugh.  I hate that I'm being like that manager from the comedy club.  She was such a turd about all of that.  She would show up late and then order a shitload of food and sit there and stuff her face.  WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?  Why am I writing about this?  Now I have anxiety.  So do you if you managed to somehow read all of this.  Love your Bluebie blog face bye.

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