I barfed.

I was so stressed out - I am still so stressed out that I overate Sesame chicken and barfed in the middle of the night.  Is that even a thing?  I ate myself sick.  What the serious fuck?  I am so stressed out about money, about my boyfriend not getting divorced quickly enough - about never, ever, ever getting any acting work - I mean at what point do I stop paying for acting classes?  It just never happens.  Okay - well - whatever about that.  I just - this is what I think - I think I just need to get a regular day job, where I get benefits and I can pay my bills.  That's it.  That's what I want.  I can do comedy at night and maybe one day I will get paid enough so that I can quit that day job and just do comedy and be on a sitcom.  What's my dream?  To move to California - be on a sitcom and do comedy at night.  Or some variation of that.  I could live here and be on one - something - where I'm surrounded by tons a creative, high functioning people and where what I have to give is useful.  I just want to be able to go into a room and be able to say to myself - okay I can do this - I will be bringing something by being here - I can be helpful in the best possible way.  I have what they are looking for.  I can't believe I barfed.  And of course I look so fat and bloated today.  Of course I didn't barf and look skinny.  I think I would have had to barf a lot more and a lot sooner.  How do people do this with children?  It must be so unbearably stressful sometimes - with money?  I can't even imagine.  Ugh - my poor childless womb.  I AM A MESS.  Do you feel sorry for me yet?  Why not because I'm doing it for you??  Holy fuck - byeeee.  Love you Bluebers.