I have been working a lot. A lot a lot. I am drop dead tired and I cannot help but wonder how on earth can I incorporate a life with my job. Impossible. My new little fuck buddy has been texting me for weeks and I continue to promise that we will hook up soon. I am lying. My job is awesome, I am important and have so much fun. This will sound conceited, but I know (I know that my boss knows too) that we are making due with one person in LA because I charm the pants off of our principals and customers. In my opinion, we should lose all of our lines. I cannot possibly do justice to them as one person in LA. I think we are cool because I am smart, get the meetings they want, book shit. It is some sort of fucking miracle.. Honestly, I think I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I feel the pressure. I haven't taken off any time since Christmas. I am going home at the end of September for a pseudo vacation. Wanna know what I am doing on my summer vacation? I am having a root canal and four cavities filled. Next, I am seeing the dermatologist. Finally, we will crown my vacation with a biopsy of my cervix. Cancer, ya! I cannot get laid WITH hair...can only imagine how hard it will be without hair and a drip bag of chemo. Good thing I have reserved a bunch of fat over the last couple of months. When I finish chemo, I am going to be all kinds of Kate Moss sorta hot.
I am unhappy and scared.