I have three more clients and then I’m off to pack.
It’s absolutely fantastic outside and I already gave three overly spectacular massages accounting for three mucho generoso tips. Life is good at this very pinnacle point in time while sitting at my tiny wobbly starbucks table over-looking the plaza.
A woman is outside picking up litter and placing it in the trash. I LOVE YOU TRASH LADY!
There’s an old man sitting next to me reading the paper. I LOVE YOU NEWSPAPER MAN! But if I saw you picking up litter like the trash lady, I would love you even MORE.
I am sublimely tired. Why am I so tired? I thought I went to bed early enough. Oh well, I’m tired and there’s not a damn thing that can be done about it except to live vicariously through the clients I put to sleep.
Three more, just three more.
I started out with three people on the books today, and now I’m up to six because I’m freaking awesome.
I’m going to go to bed at 7 p.m tonight. Yes. 7 p.m. That way I get all the sleep I need so I won’t have to waste time sleeping in Vegas.
I’ve been going to bed way too late and desperately need to catch up.
I zoned out on my way to work today and when I snapped out of it, I was all the way in Hartford. I missed my exit by a landslide. I started sweating bullets, lit up another smoke and flew down 95 in my Pop’s truck that he so kindly entrusted me with. I arrived at work just in time to see that my client wasn’t scheduled to arrive just yet. I risked life and limb for nothing. But I live life on the edge. Always have, always will. Yep. Renegade.