Am happy to report I and my comic peeps each had a nice seven minutes at Jitters last night--only thing, talking about it with my friend and fellow comic Holly about it on the way home afterwards, we realized she spent about seven hours of her life for her seven minutes, me a little less.
Are we desperate, or dedicated? That is today's question.
Regardless, I believe it was worthwhile, if only to see my friend Jennifer's heroic attempts at shaking the audience out of their lethargy. They were dead, for all intents and purposes, but she brought them back to life as only she can, using a combination of threats, calisthenics, and more.
A comic miracle.
As for today, I have more evidence that my night owl days are far behind me. It took a lot of positive self-talk for me to get my carcass out of bed this morning at 7:00 a.m. to feed the beasts.
They don't factor in late nights when deciding when feeding time should be. As far as I can tell, feeding time is an inflexible concept in both the canine and feline cranium. And besides, once Linus starts whining, I am powerless. He has a hold on me, that dog.
Now I must try to finish compiling my taxes. Try very hard not to envy me my day; it's unseemly....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment