Monday, April 29, 2002
Well, I have arrived. The weekend was officially over as of 6am this morning. Mariah and her friend Anne came into town last night for an audition in the city. They crashed at our place last night. It was, as always, great to see Mariah. She was so cute. The one ridiculous part is that Anne had to put her cat to sleep yesterday morning, cuz it was all crazy and tempermental. Then she got to our house and saw Kelly's cat Trey and nearly burst into hysterical tears. She was like: "Oh...he looks just like ______" (insert random dead cat's name here). It was sad, but she talked about it incessantly and it left me wondering...if you put your cat to sleep this morning, why are you in NYC auditioning to be the next American Pop Idol
when you seem like all you want to do is be at home crying? Guess you gotta do whatever it takes to be a star.
So, I hung out with them for a bit and then tried to get some sleep.
Not nearly enough. I am beat. So tired that my body hurts and my head feels fuzzy. I don't think that I have had a moments silence since last Tuesday when Paul came in to the city.
Must sleep.
On Wednesday night, I am heading to Boston to take care of Paul. He is having major surgery tomorrow night and he is going to be lying on his back for about a week. I am going so that I can cook him meals, watch movies with him, and change the dressing on his wound. Nast. But someone's got to do it.
Barf-a-ria.
Time to go stare blankly at my computer screen for an hour.
when you seem like all you want to do is be at home crying? Guess you gotta do whatever it takes to be a star.
So, I hung out with them for a bit and then tried to get some sleep.
Not nearly enough. I am beat. So tired that my body hurts and my head feels fuzzy. I don't think that I have had a moments silence since last Tuesday when Paul came in to the city.
Must sleep.
On Wednesday night, I am heading to Boston to take care of Paul. He is having major surgery tomorrow night and he is going to be lying on his back for about a week. I am going so that I can cook him meals, watch movies with him, and change the dressing on his wound. Nast. But someone's got to do it.
Barf-a-ria.
Time to go stare blankly at my computer screen for an hour.
