Did it

I had work tonight. And then I came home.
I pulled into my driveway feeling so fucking good. I made good money tonight and I was first cut. I was sitting there rolling silverware when Lola says, “Girl, the squad going clubbing!”
I sent a pal a frantic texts:
My will is slipping!
she wants to go clubbing
I’m not going to finish my story by tomorrow
I’m almost out

Torn! between indecision. Thankfully I walked to my car.
I then tore off my uniform, adorned pajamas, brewed some hot chocolate, and read a collection of short stories by Amy Hempel called reasons to live.
Now I’m high and eating pizza rolls, and I’m gonna watch some standup comedy.

I haven’t touched on something cool. Three weeks ago I did my first stand up open mic! Tuesday will be my third, and I’m expecting it to be good.
I don’t know if I am good, but it’s fun. And that has me writing.
I’m actually trying to push myself to do open mics as much as possible. Standup, poetry, storytelling, you name it.
It’s exciting.

SO- some kid at work told me this funny story and I made it into a joke

I didn’t win the powerball…but,

I found 300 dollars yesterday.
In my room.
I was so freaking psyched.
It wasn’t one of those instances where you find it stuffed in the pocket of your winter jacket.

it was very carefully hidden, tucked away,
underneath a stack of books.

Then I remembered,
like, instant replay-
I had placed my tips beneath my books while I was drunk one night
like a little fuckin squirrel
storing her nuts,
making sure that
sober me don’t spend all that cash
i worked hard for those nuts
[I charmed this table of
weasels who said,
“Hey, chipmunk!”
from across the room
the disrespect
of those damn

Like, thanks drunk me.
for once,
not doing something to completely fuck me over.





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