…and now it makes sense. How else would someone know “chop chop chop” meant I was getting my hair cut? Tsk, tsk. Well, in all fairness, I didn’t hide this blog very well.
Whatever. I shouldn’t have had to hide in the first place.
So! In other news, it’s 3 a.m. and I can’t fucking sleep. I’ve tried, twice, but I just lay here, thinking about the time, which makes it worse. I’m going to get all of 4 hours of sleep, and I’m actually considering calling Cory and asking if he wants to come out to Coney Island with me on a whim? Like I’ll be gregarious in the first place! More like I will be a miserable cranky old hag who will hate absolutely everyone who gets in her way. Hrm, I wonder if I can finagle a nap at some point. Lessee… haircut at 8, back home at 9 for a quick FB pic and to show the momz0rs, then to work from 10-2, oil change at 2:30, and…now that I think about it, I could stay home from like 3:30-6:30 and hope for the best traffic-wise come 6:30. This way I can get to CI around 7/7:30, see the show at 8, walk around ’till maybe 10 and then head home. I’ll have gotten the nap, and if Cory actually gets back to me, he might be interested, as it’s lots of walking on a shore. Then again, if he’s anything at all like me, the spontaneity will not work, and he will have other plans. Least I can do is try (and not chicken out), right?
I start my restricted lifestyle tomorrow, sadly. It entails:
-limited spicy food
-limited alcohol intake
-limited caffeine intake
-lots of water-drinking
-vocal rest periodically
-limited yelling/loud talking
…but I haven’t had a cigarette since…well, the end of my last pseudo-relationship. Funny, that was one of the first reasons why I didn’t want to be around him. The rest just kinda…fell into place. But I digress, ’cause this has gotten fairly tangential. Point of the story is, I am a successful quitter (again)–not that the repetition is a good sign. Heh. But in the name of my voice, I want to stick to this. I’m already amazed at the difference 5-6 weeks has made on my vocal range. Someday, if I’m a good girl, maybe I’ll get it all back. …here’s hopin’!
Off to try this sleep thing again. Good luck, self!