Maybe at the end of the road I'll see the clean, tidy narrative. Maybe when I get to the end of it, I'll know whether I was the protagonist or the antagonist, the good guy or the bad guy, a comically and tragically flawed villian or a redeemable heroine. Maybe I'll see that I was a silly twit of a woman or an unsung siren, someone wildly shooting from the hip or a true gunslinger. A princess or a witch. The Preacher or the Marshall.



Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Reasons I could use a drink, a toke and an afternoon veggin' out in front of Futurama

[ ] Hell Week at Music Theatre.

[ ] PMS.

[ ] I have the shakes.

[ ] I hit a cat last night. Being tired always makes me feel existential. I laid awake thinking about the fragility of Life. Then got a series of texts which made me even more contemplative. Not enough time to let my brain relax and be contemplative. I'm understanding why people pray. But I'm lazy and I'll take the low road of a little buzz and some TV.

[ X] All of the above.
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)